


Tournament

by Shadow_Chaser



Series: BBC Robin Hood Alternate Season 2 [2]
Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Allan-a-Dale has an interesting past, Allan-a-Dale's loyalties are tested...again, Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Rival gangs operating in Sherwood Forest, Tournaments are fun!, alternate season 2, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-28
Updated: 2009-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-28 01:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 36,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Chaser/pseuds/Shadow_Chaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Well Met Steel" - The annual summer festival has arrived in Nottingham. Where there is money, there will be Robin Hood. However, the haunting past of one of the gang makes things just a little harder. -Post Season 1, Alternate Universe-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1: Competition

Robin Hood: Tournament

By: Shadow Chaser

 

**Author’s Notes:**

Robin Hood and all of its characters do not belong to me.  This story is written for fandom and not for profit.  This story takes place roughly at the end of June around the summer solstice.  A general note is that I graduated college with a minor in History (could have almost double majored except for a few more credits) and have a pretty good knowledge of the Crusades along with European, American, and Asiatic history.

However, this does not mean I know much about nobility titles within England – that is one of my weak spots.  Take all noble titles given in this story (with the exception of already established ones within the TV series) with a grain of salt.

 

**Summary:**

            The annual Summer Solstice festival has arrived, drawing everyone to Nottingham.  The Sheriff offers a handsome reward for the winner of a triathlon of events: archery, jousting, and combat.  However, the reward is not to draw Robin out of hiding, but rather, draw him out so that he is forced to protect the Sheriff from an assassination attempt.

 

**Story:**

 

_Part 1 – Competition_

 

**OUTSKIRTS OF TREETON**

 

Laughter filled the road as Robin Hood and his gang walked down the dirt path to Treeton carrying the latest foodstuffs they had raided from Nottingham just a few hours earlier in the morning.  The laughter was a welcomed sound to Robin’s ears as just a little over a week ago they had escaped the clutches of the Sheriff’s latest plan to capture them.  It had given all of them a good scare and made them skittish and wary of the roads of anyone who looked remotely like a noble, but Robin was not to be deterred by events.

He knew that his gang would avoid the roads for the next few weeks due to James of Atherstone’s treachery, which was why he had suggested a morning raid into Nottingham instead.  The plan was two-folded; one to get his gang back in better spirits and two, to reassure the people of Nottinghamshire that the gang hadn’t been browbeaten into hiding due to the Sheriff’s latest plan.

However, he also knew that they would have to tread a bit more lightly whenever they were out on one of their raids.  There was no way the Sheriff had been working alone and with James…no way he could have gotten access to Prince John’s royal guards without the Prince’s express permission.  It meant both good and bad news.  Good because they were finally catching the attention of the other nobles throughout England, bad because they had finally caught the attention of Prince John, enough so that he had to send his own royal guards to deal with the situation.

He also hoped that it meant the nobles of the land were debating whether or not to side with him when King Richard returned, and oust the corrupt Prince.

“And so what does the Young Master do when Thornton’s back’s turned to him?  He goes and snatches the same sheets off the clothes line and runs around with the others, yelling and screaming his head off again!” Much’s loud and boisterous voice cut into Robin’s thought and he glanced up from his musings to see his friend’s hands move around animatedly, describing…

“Hey!” he realized Much had been telling the others a story about him when he was young and it sounded awfully like the time he had pretended he was an outlaw…before his father had caught him and punished him for ‘behavior unbecoming of a noble of his station.’

The gang stared at him for a split second in his outburst before doubling over in laughter once more.  Robin put up an affronted look, but had to crack a smile a few moments later from the infectious laughter.

“I remember that…a couple of the other kids and I chased after him, pretending to be part of his gang,” Will gave them a slightly shy, but wiry grin.

“And look at you now!” Djaq elbowed their resident carpenter good-naturedly before a slight blush appeared on Will’s cheeks and he looked a bit embarrassed by the attention; Robin noted that it was mostly on Djaq’s part.

His grin brightened just a bit more as he realized what was going on between the two.  So Will hadn’t been joking when he said that he thought he loved Djaq…interesting…

“Robin!” a young voice made him turn his head around to see Rowan running up to them, looking hale and much healthier and in better spirits then the last time they had met.  He also noted that they had just passed the graves of those who had died at Treeton Mine, but the graves, instead of looking so depressed and grey, were now covered in flowers and bright green grass.  It looked like the area was recovering nicely after they blew up the mine a couple of months ago.

“Rowan!” he greeted with a wave before the young man stopped in front of them.

“Food?  For the town?!” Rowan looked at all of them, eyes wide.

“Yes,” Little John set down the large bag of grains he had been carrying, “we know you are still recovering and healing.”

“Wow…we’ll have enough food to last us past winter and into the spring!” Rowan looked excited.

“Wait,” Robin shook his head, puzzled, “enough food to last past a year?”  He knew that they didn’t bring raid _that_ much food this morning…

“Yes…” Rowan clapped him on the back, “between you, the Nightwatchman, and Anna’s gang, the whole of the Shire can survive under the Sheriff’s evil rule!”

“Anna’s gang?” Much looked confused.

“Yes!  It seems your exploits have been spreading far and inspired others to do the same rob the rich to help the poor!” Rowan looked ecstatic and Robin had a bad feeling…he didn’t want a repeat of the Tom incident…didn’t want anyone else doing deeds in his name and get themselves killed like Allan-a-Dale’s younger brother did months ago.

“In fact,” Rowan continued, “Anna and her gang are here!  You guys should meet!”

“Yeah, we should,” Allan suddenly spoke up and Robin glanced at their resident thief and con man who looked a little on edge.  He understood why…the memories of his late brother were still fresh in his mind and he also did not want a repeat of what had happened to Tom to happen to this Anna and her gang.

“Here, I’ll take you to the storage house so you can meet them,” Rowan gestured for them to follow.

When they got to the storehouse, Robin noted that a few scruffy looking woodsmen, all well armed like they were stood out in front, some sitting on the ground, others laughing at a joke one had said to the other.  The woodsmen perked up as they approached and stared at them with neutral eyes before one of them ducked into the storeroom for a few seconds before coming back out with another person, clearly the leader of the woodsmen.

“Anna!  This is Robin Hood and his men,” Rowan smiled at the leader who nodded and smiled back.

Robin approached Anna, noting that at first glance she could have easily passed for a man with her clothes if not for the long curly dirty-blonde hair that was tied back with a rag.  At second glance, he noted that she was quite pretty underneath all the dirt smudges and shook her hand, surprised at the firm grip she had.

“It is an honor to finally meet you Robin Hood.  Your exploits have been heard ‘round the shire and beyond,” Anna smiled at him.

“I’m glad that I’ve been an inspiration to others,” he grinned before releasing her hand, “did you and your men arrive here just recently?”

It was an easy question, but to his men, Robin knew that it was a loaded one too.  If Anna was a recent arrival to Nottinghamshire, there was a chance she may have been plotting with the Sheriff.  They were still wary from James of Atherstone’s attempt a week ago.

“We’ve come from Rochdale and a few villages in the area, but yes, we’ve only recently arrived.  One of your men in a splinter group, Forrest, was kind enough to provide some help in the area and named places to raid to help feed the poor,” Anna replied.

Robin remembered Forrest and the other band of men who had been part of Little John’s gang before he had arrived in Sherwood Forest.  While Little John and Roy had opted to stay under his command, the others had splintered off to conduct more unsavory methods of being outlaws.  He hadn’t stopped them, but had given them a warning that if they killed innocent villager in Sherwood or Nottinghamshire then they would answer to him.

Forrest and the other men had agreed to the terms and left, but their paths occasionally crossed with information for each other.  If Forrest had shown Anna and her band of outlaws where to raid and to give food to people, and then perhaps he needn’t be so worried.

“Forrest, eh?” Little John spoke up a bit gruffly and Robin turned to see the tall woodsmen looking a bit thoughtful.  He knew that even though his and Forrest’s gang paths rarely crossed, he had a feeling that Little John saw more of the man and his old gang than he did.

“Yes, we told him that we were looking for some guidance under Robin Hood’s men and then will be returning to Rochdale to conduct our business,” Anna looked at them, “we don’t mean to impose…”

Robin sighed and glanced at his men, his unspoken question of if they had any problems with Anna and her gang staying for a while and noticed Allan looking a bit out of sorts and was seemingly trying to hide behind Will for that matter.  “Allan?” he stared at their resident thief and con man who froze like a child caught stealing something.

“Allan,” Anna’s questioning tone brought his head around to see her move past him and towards Allan who now looked completely resigned to a fate worst than death.  “Allan-a-Dale, is that you?”

“Yeah…” Allan looked completely put out and Robin remembered the faint echoes of Allan’s protest when he was first jailed that he was from Rochdale, which was why he was called Allan-a-Dale…  It hadn’t occurred to him that it was the same Rochdale.

He watched the encounter with a raised eyebrow of faint amusement and nearly felt his jaw drop in utter surprise when Allan suddenly sighed heavily and dropped to one knee before kissing Anna’s hand, the other hand with a very large ring on it.  From his vantage point, Robin recognized the signet on the ring as the coat of arms of the Rushcliffe family, a once-very powerful family, but fell from nobility a while ago.  They still held their lands, but Robin had not heard from family ever since he was a young boy.  He had only met the head of the Earl of Rushcliffe once and truth be told, was completely afraid of the man.

If Anna held the Rushcliffe signet…

“Lady Anna of Rochdale, Countess of Rushcliffe, I, your servant, Allan-a-Dale bid you welcome,” the humble tone from Allan’s voice was completely out of character from the Allan Robin thought he knew.  This…this was-

“You have got to be joking,” Much took the words out of his mouth as the rest of the gang stared at Allan, of all people, bowing so humbly to the woman in front of him.

He cleared his throat to get Anna’s attention, “It seems, milady, you have some explaining to do…”

Anna retracted her hand and looked up at him and gave him a small smile, “Yes, I believe you, Sir Robin of Locksley, Earl of Huntingdon also have some explaining to do too…seeing as Allan has found his way into your gang.”

                                    *                      *                      *

**NOTTINGHAM** **CASTLE**

 

Sheriff Vaysey was not a man so easily scared, but right now he was feeling scared.  Just a little over a week ago he had nearly been killed by that damned Crusader James of Atherstone, all because of Prince John’s sick and twisted plan to test him, or was it to kill him for real, he did not know.  What he knew was that Prince John was watching him carefully and it was a warning that he had better eliminate Robin Hood soon or else his bid for the shire in two months would be rejected and he would be sacked.

The letter he had originally received from Prince John stated that he was to allow Atherstone to do as he pleased and put in motion a plan that would surely benefit him and get rid of Hood at the same time.  He should have expected that Prince John would subvert his command and ask his lieutenant Guy of Gisborne to eliminate him should everything else fail.  The man loved his games…

Vaysey knew that in any other man’s place, he would have immediately begun plotting his revenge against Prince John’s sick and twisted plan, but he knew that he still needed the Prince for his own gains.  He wouldn’t want to be stuck as the Sheriff of some backwater shire forever.  No, he wanted to be at the helm of the plan to eliminate King Richard and put his brother on the throne.  He wanted the Prince to recognize his accomplishments and make sure that this Sheriff was worthy to become a higher noble, perhaps of Sussex or one of the larger estates.

But right now, he was scared.  He needed to eliminate Hood, but he needed to be successful in this attempt or else there would be future “warnings” from Prince John, or not even.  He could even find himself with his throat slit in the morning and watching it from the Heavens above.

“That damned Hood…” he muttered as he paced around his desk, trying to think of something.

The summer solstice was in a couple of days and a three-event tournament was going to be held, drawing in nobles from the lands and to show off the wealth that Nottinghamshire had accrued from its peasants.  He knew that Hood might sneak into it, but there was no way to assure that he would have an unfortunate accident in one of the events.

He could persuade some of the nobles and their knights who sided with Prince John to perhaps be on the look out for Hood and kill him if they see any sign of his hooded green head in the events.  But that could mean a lot of bloodshed and the populaces of Nottingham were currently leery of too much bloodshed.

There was once time he wouldn’t care for how much blood was shed, but he wanted to make sure that the populace wasn’t going to flee from the amount of blood spilt.  He needed workers and their taxes after all.  Fear made them all the more cowardly, and he needed fear not outright disgust and terror.

“Milord, the preparations are almost complete,” Gisborne suddenly spoke up from the door and Vaysey glared at his lieutenant.

“I don’t need to know about the tournament,” he sneered before Guy looked down for a second, a half smile on his face before looking up again.

“I meant the other ones,” his lieutenant looked a little too smug for Vaysey’s taste, but his ears perked up in response to what he said.

“Really,” he clapped his hands together, “do tell.”

“We have received word that a friend had arrived in town and is making contact.  I have personally sent out the letters to our friends and two have already agreed to put up a hefty sum of money in order to lure Hood to the tournament,” Gisborne said.

“Hmm,” Vaysey nodded, pleased.  “Just make sure that when they do arrive, they must be careful that it is Hood they are killing.  Anyone else and they will answer to me.”

“What about that other…issue,” he did not mention it by name because he trusted it to no one else, not even the guards outside of his room.

“Which one?” Gisborne looked a bit confused.

“That…other one,” he gestured with his hands.

“Nothing to report, sire,” Gisborne shook his head, “he says it will take time, but we will know within a couple of weeks after the tournament.”

“That’s not good enough!” Vaysey wanted that particular project to be already underway.  He needed results to in order to show Prince John that he was still doing everything he could to prepare for King Richard’s arrival.

“Milord-“

“I don’t care how much you pay him, I want results!” he hissed at Gisborne, making the man step back.

“Sir,” the smug smile had been completely wiped off his lieutenant’s face and Vaysey smiled once more.

“Now…about the other issue,” he settled back to pacing around and poked one of his bird cages, making the birds inside flutter and chirp excitedly.  “Has it been arranged?”

“It will happen tonight, milord.  I’ve trained him personally,” Gisborne bowed slightly, “it will be superficial, but it will look professional.”

“Good, good,” he rubbed his hands together for a few seconds before strolling to one of the windows, “this is good…”  He looked out into the clear cloudless sky of the summer day and his smile grew wider.  This was going to be really good…

                                    *                      *                      *

**OUTLAWS’ CAMP,** **SHERWOOD FOREST**

 

“So let me figure this out again, you, inspired by my heroic efforts,” Robin walked from the fire to hand Anna a plate of cooked squirrel and some bread, “decided to become an outlaw yourself even though you’re nobility, and rob the rich to feed the poor.”

“Got it in one,” Anna accepted the plate with a nod of thanks before nibbling on the squirrel that Much had cooked.

“I don’t mean to be funny Anna, but wouldn’t your mother be furious with you?” Allan looked completely aghast.

“Prince John jailed her a couple of months ago,” Anna replied in a slightly frosty tone, giving Allan a measured look, “so I am the sole heir to Rochdale and I decided to leave before Prince John’s men and lackeys could arrest me.”

“And you’re down here, to what, train?” Djaq asked, sounding a bit skeptical.

“My mother always said to learn from the best before venturing out on one’s own and since my family is all but forgotten by the other relatives of the Rushcliffe clan I have a liberty of sorts to move about,” she looked at all of them, “I can assure you that my men and I are not here to invade your little territory that you’ve carved out in the past few months.”

“I don’t think we’re worried about that,” Robin gave her a wiry smile before gesturing to her men with his chin, his hands full of another plate of squirrel that he had picked off the fire to eat.  “Your men?”

“Lydia, milord,” one of the servants said quietly, “my brother, Dennis and I have served Lady Anna for about nine winters and ten springs now.”

Almost all of the gang’s heads turned to the tiny little speaker, shocked that the smallest of the group was just a girl instead of a little boy that they had all thought he was.

“But…you’re a child,” Much looked shocked.

“I’m not a child,” Lydia’s eyes flashed angrily beneath her dirt streaked face, “I am good with a sword-“

“Now, now,” Anna smiled before gently nudging the young girl who sat closest to the fire, “what did I tell you about shooting your mouth off?  Be polite, Lyd.”

“Yes’m,” the girl mumbled, “my apologies.”

“How…” Little John stared at her, his expression unreadable.

“Seventeen, if you could believe it,” Anna replied, before pointing to another young man who had decided to sit next to Much and the cooking pit, “Dennis is nineteen, but he has not spoken a single word since they’ve arrived under my care.”

“My other men, Walter and Aaron are from the surrounding villages near Rochdale.  Their original leader had died after Prince John had sent an enforcer to ‘cleanse’ the villages and so joined up with me,” Anna pointed out the two other woodsmen who nodded their assent to her story.

“Interesting,” Robin finished eating his squirrel and gestured to Allan, “Allan, what’s your story?”

“Me brother and I stole some food from her house, her mother caught us, but we managed to escape.  We later found out that we were banned from ever returning to Rochdale,” Allan shrugged, “I’m more surprised that she’s here, as an outlaw…”

Anna suddenly snorted with laughter and Robin glanced at her, puzzled.  “That’s the lie you’ve been telling them?!”  She covered her mouth as a few more peals of laughter emerged from her lips before shaking her head, “I’m sorry if you all believed that…  Truth be told, me mum caught Allan here, sneaking to my window.  Banished him and his brother, Tom forever.”

Robin instantly knew what Anna had meant by the comment and shared a quick glance with Much who had also understood the implications.  However, Will looked utterly lost while Little John still had an unreadable expression on his face.  Djaq was quiet, but was looking at Allan with worry in her eyes.  Allan however…

“That was a long time ago, things changed,” their resident thief looked angry at the statement and abruptly got up and stalked away from the camp, dumping his plate of food onto the ground in the process.

“Allan!” Anna twisted her body slightly, “come on!  I was only…”  She huffed a sigh and shrugged her shoulders, “he was always like that…moody…”

“Will,” Robin murmured to their resident carpenter and shook his head, making the young man sit back down.  He knew that Allan and Will were good friends and while Will didn’t seem to understand what had happened, he wanted to at least talk to Allan.  “Give him some space…”

Will nodded before Djaq whispered in his ear and his eyes widened in realization of what had happened in the conversation.  He shot Anna a look before shaking his head and muttering something back to Djaq.  Robin would have liked to know what the two were talking about, but he had a feeling that Will’s opinion of Anna just dropped a little.

“So, how about it?” Anna’s voice brought him back to look at her and he glanced at the other members of his gang.

“We shall see,” he wondered if he should mention to Anna that Tom-a-Dale was dead, but decided not to, “we aren’t really in the habit of training anyone, but perhaps we can come to a mutual agreement.”

“Of what?”

“Information and that sort of thing,” Robin said.

“Well, then how about this as a gesture of faith on my part.  I heard rumors that a hefty amount of money will be arriving in Nottingham during the summer solstice celebration, courtesy of the lords of the lands arriving for the tournament.  You and your gang teach us how to intercept money like that, and we’ll split it fifty-fifty,” Anna set her plate down and looked at him with hopeful eyes.

“Who’s bringing the money?” Robin asked part of him wary for another trap, the other part of him giddy at the chance to steal more money from under the Sheriff’s nose.

“Leicester and Devon.  The money goes towards the winner of the tournament-“

“And the Sheriff will want that much money to stay within Nottingham, so…” he knew that James of Atherstone was loyal to the Earl of Devon, which meant, Devon was probably in league with the Sheriff to depose King Richard and put Prince John up in his place.   That much money in Nottingham meant a lot more guards.  He glanced up at Anna and her gang….they had an advantage…but he was still hesitant.

“How good are your men?” he asked, a plan forming in his head.

“Master?” Much looked at him with worry but he raised a hand to calm his former manservant down.

“If you would like, I can pit my men against yours in mock combat,” Anna suggested.

Robin considered it for a second before shaking his head.  Needless combat against each other was just a waste of energy and time.  “Just let me see their archery,” he said before rubbing his chin, “how well known are you as an outlaw?”

“Like I said, just recently,” Anna shrugged, “that’s why I decided to come to Nottingham to learn from the best.”

“Then there is a chance the Sheriff does not know you have defied Prince John,” he replied.  “We can work with this…”

“Robin?” Djaq asked.

He grinned and looked at all of them, “I have a plan…”

                                    *                      *                      *

Allan-a-Dale stared out at the green-brown expanse that was Sherwood Forest from his perch high on a rocky boulder a bit away from camp.  He had found this place a few weeks ago when they were scouting locations for another camp and while Robin had dubbed it a viable place; he had also wanted somewhere else where they wouldn’t be so easily ambushed from above.

He now used it as his sanctuary and a place for him to quietly slip off to whenever the camp grew to stifling to stay in.  He usually liked to think of himself as someone who was unable to stop pulling jokes on the others or even bring a bit of humor to the gang; especially to Robin who thought he wasn’t showing it, but was nervous and worried in week since they had gotten rid of James of Atherstone.  But right now…he needed his space to think.  He couldn’t believe that _she_ was here…of all the people he did not want to see ever again from Rochdale.

The feelings he had long sought to bury had risen painfully when he had seen her, dressed in the rags and clothes of a woodsmen, but just as beautiful as ever, had threatened to overwhelm him.  He knew that his reaction to Anna was uncharacteristic of his mannerisms that he showed in front of the gang, but they did not know…and if he had his way, they would never know why he was forever banished from Rochdale.  Why he and Tom could never go home again.

Even if she was out here, gallivanting as an outlaw, he still couldn’t go home with her.  Rochdale and its inhabitants would never accept it, nor would they even want to.  He had betrayed everyone there and had run away along with Tom.  They had both betrayed their home and had run away, unwilling to face the consequences of their actions.  But Tom had died and didn’t have to face the humiliation of what was to be expected if they did return to Rochdale one day.

He knew he shouldn’t blame Anna for everything, but seeing her again…made things too complicated.  And now he feared that they were going to stay for a while, especially if Robin was keen on ‘training’ them so to speak.  He knew that their leader was still cautious and would be careful around Anna and her gang as to make sure a repeat of what had happened to Tom and his little band would not happen to Anna.  But he still was worried.

“Allan?” Will’s soft voice startled him from his thoughts and he glanced back to see his young friend walking hesitantly up towards him.  He didn’t realize how quiet Will was and realized that if any of the Sheriff’s men had been out here, they could have easily ambushed him.

“Yeah?” he scooted a bit over on his rocky perch to indicate that he was not bothered by the intrusion.

“You all right?”

“Yeah, fine,” he replied, “just had to get some air, that’s all.  You know, women and stuff…always joking about kissing this guy or the next.”  He gave what he hoped was a confident smile to the carpenter and it seemed that Will accepted the lie.

“Anna’s saying that there’s a hefty amount of gold being held up as the prize in the tournament in a couple of days.  Robin says he’s got a plan, so…”

“He wants me back at camp because it involves all of us,” Allan sighed, “I’m coming.”  Getting up, he stretched, and clapped Will on the back as they headed back towards the camp, “You really think I’d be sulking, didn’t you?”  He knew he would have to have a private talk with Anna later…he did not want her to be bringing up random events in his past that he would rather keep a tight lid on.

The less the others knew about his past and knew him as who he was now, the better it would be for everyone in the long run.

“Well...” Will looked hesitant and Allan grinned at him.

“Anna's talking nonsense,” he shrugged, “the girl loved making up stories, just like when she was younger.  She fancied herself the damsel in distress and Tom and I along with some of the other villagers used to just play around with her, climbing her windows, running around the house.”

“Sounds fun,” the worried look was gone from his young friend's face, “looks like you had fun in Rochdale.”

“Yeah, those were the days,” he scratched the back of his head as they entered the edge of the camp.  Allan ignored the look Anna gave him as they stepped towards where Robin and the others were gathered, talking quietly and noted that the last rays of twilight were giving way to the inky  night and the only light in the area was by the fire pit and cooking fire.

Robin gave him a once over to which he managed to keep his expression neutral and breathed out a quick sigh of relief once their leader's gaze was off of him, satisfied that he wasn't going to be moody anymore.  He didn't tell anyone, but there were times he thought their leader was able to read minds or read emotions so well that he thought it was witchcraft.  It was scary at times, but helpful in times when they thought they would be in trouble or needed a quick way out.  Robin was smart, he had to give him that, very smart and very tactical and effective as a leader.  But sometimes, when the leadership turned inward, it made Allan feel guilty.

“I need to confirm something tonight, but we already have one part of our plan ready to go.  Rowan says he'll be more than happy to help us in the tournament,” Robin explained as Anna and the others got up and crowded around to hear his plan, “Anna, even though you are not well known as an outlaw, there is a good chance the Sheriff may have heard about you so we can't risk you sponsoring someone into the tournament.”

“So you're going to ask Marian, right?” Much spoke up.

“Yes,” Robin nodded, “I'll explain to her what's going on and hopefully we can work this out.”

“So what's the initial plan?” Anna asked.

“We'll need a few people to enter into the tournament to distract the Sheriff and everyone else while the rest of us go and grab the gold,” Robin glanced around before cracking a smile and nodding, “Much, thank you for volunteering.”

“What?  But Robin-”

Allan felt the tug of a grin work its way up his face as he saw the dismayed look appear on Much's face.  He did not really have an opinion on Robin's former manservant, tending to think of him as a bit loud and whiny, but his heart was where it counted and he was extremely loyal to their leader.

“Allan, you too,” Robin suddenly turned to him and he blinked in surprise.

“Me?  Robin...” he suddenly felt unsure.  Why was Robin volunteering him for the tournament?  “There's archery involved!  You're the best shot of all of us...”

“And the Sheriff will easily see through our ruse and get Marian in trouble at the same time if I become her knight.  You're the second best shot of any of us and the Sheriff will not recognize you that easily as he will with me.”

“I don't mean to be funny Robin,” Allan shook his head, “but I don't even know how to joust!”

“Much can help you with that part,” Robin looked at him with serious eyes and the well of doubt continued to fill Allan.  “He'll be your squire at the tournament.   He knows the basics of the jousting section of the tournament and plus we'll be long gone from Nottingham by the time that event occurs,” their leader continued and Allan frowned.

He wanted to protest, wanted to tell Robin the real reason why he was so against being the knight for the tournament.  But he couldn't say it out loud, not with Anna standing near him.  It would bring up too many bad memories for the two of them, and destroy the reputation he had so long built up in the gang.  He did not want to revisit those memories, not now, not ever.

“Yeah, but what happens to Marian if we leave before the tournament is over?  Won't her name be disgraced?” Will asked and Allan nodded in agreement.

“Plan to lose during the combat phase, which is the second of the events,” Robin looked at all of them, “I'll ask Marian to ask one of the King's allies to make it look like they've injured you.”

“You can get injured in these things?!” now Allan was really worried.  He liked being hale, healthy and whole...he didn't like being injured no matter what.  It hurt and there was always the chance of infection and dying from whatever wound was received.  He wasn't a coward, but he did like being healthy...

“I don't know, Robin, if Allan-”

“Fine, I'll do it,” he roughly cut Anna off, giving her a pointed look.  The last thing he wanted was for her to make up excuses for him.  He did not need her coddling; he learned how to stand on his own.

“Okay then, we'll go over the other part tomorrow morning after I had a chance to talk with Marian, all right?” Robin clapped his hands together, “welcome to the festivities Anna.  You and your gang will be infamous in no time.”

                                    *                      *                      *

**KNIGHTON HALL**

 

            Marian slowly rotated her shoulder once more, wincing slightly as the pull of the stitching and pain of her wound stretched slightly before it settled back down again.  The bolt wound she had received as a parting gift from James of Atherstone's crossbow little more than a week ago was healing at a moderate pace.  However, it wasn't fast enough for her patience as she wanted to do more around Knighton Hall and in the surrounding villages.  She hadn't told Robin yet, but in the initial days following her injury, she had decided to become the Nightwatchman once again to help the peasants.

            She knew Robin would be angry with her, but she did not care about that.  It was something she wanted to do; something she felt compelled to do.  She knew Robin would lecture her about the risks involved, especially the risk if Guy of Gisborne were to see her again, but she had decided she would deal with that when the time came.  She did not want to be coddled now that she felt so empowered after she had rejected Guy at the altar.   She knew that she still had somewhat mixed feelings for Guy and his gesture to help her escape when James had imprisoned her had believe that he did have a heart somewhere in the darkness that was consuming him.

            Now if only Robin could see that; but she didn't hold too much hope for her love seeing an actual good side of Guy.  He was too stubborn, too set in his ways, too blinded for his hatred of Guy to actually see that he had a decent, kind side.  She sighed softly and rotated her shoulder once more before gently pulling it across her chest to stretch it.  Counting to ten under her breath she let her arm drop once more and took a deep breath.

            “How's the wound?” Robin's soft voice startled her and she glanced over to her window to see him peeking in, a gentle smile on his face.

            She returned the smile and walked over to him, “Better.  The physician says it’s healing rapidly and with my exercises, I'm able to get more movement in it day after day.”

            Robin nodded before biting his lower lip and Marian instantly recognized the look.  He was thinking of something and it involved asking her for a favor.  The corner of her lip twitched involuntarily before she shook her head and leaned against the bars of her window.  “All right, what is it?”

            “I have a favor-”

            “That is the fifth time you have asked me for a favor.”

            “You're keeping track?” he looked surprised and she smiled.

            “Perhaps,” she loved teasing him, making him squirm.  He was still such a child in that respect one part of him she had instantly loved the first time they had met.  She was glad that his years over in the Holy Land fighting for the King did not destroy that aspect of him.

            He blushed for a few seconds before shaking his head at her.  “I need you to sponsor Rowan of Treeton as your knight in the tournament,” his expression grew serious and she straightened a bit.

            “Rowan?” she searched her memory of anyone she knew named Rowan and realized that he was the young man who had wanted to kill her, but had instead, been convinced to win the silver arrow in the recent spring festivals.  He had then made it his priority to stop by once in a while to give her gifts and thank her for guiding him on the right path.

            There was one time when Guy had mistakenly thought one of Rowan’s gifts was from another suitor, but she had not done anything to dissuade that thought.  “He won the silver arrow in the spring festival didn't he?”

            “Yes,” Robin nodded, “and I know he's been visiting you on occasion for guidance.”

            She opened her mouth to tell Robin the reason why when he cut her off.

            “He told me...I know,” he replied, “that's why I'm asking if you could sponsor him as your knight.”

            “There's something in the castle you want isn't there?  Or do you want to compete that badly for the glory of Locksley?”

            “For your glory,” he gave her an affronted look but she was having none of it.

            “Then I would sponsor Guy of Gisborne,” she shot back and saw the disgust appear on his face.  “I do not need glory as you seem to want it.”  She saw a brief flash of anger appear on his face before she reached out and touched him gently on the cheek, bringing his gaze on her.  “I'm sorry Robin that was hurtful of me.”

            “The Earls of Leicester and Devon are apparently putting up a large sum of money for the winner of the tournament.  I know James was loyal to Devon so Devon has to be working for the Sheriff and they probably plan to win the money to fund Prince John's taxes.  Leicester may also be in league with the Sheriff, but I'm not too sure at the moment,” Robin explained, “my men and Anna's men plan to go into the castle and steal the funds before the tournament is over.”

            “Anna?” Marian couldn't help but feel a small flare of jealous erupt within her.  She tried not to let it show in her tone, but apparently Robin caught onto it and cracked a wiry grin.

            “Jealous?” he teased her.

            “No,” she quickly replied, “just curious.”

            “She is from Rochdale and is apparently part of the Rushcliffe clan.  Her mother was jailed by Prince John recently and she just turned to being an outlaw.  She thinks that she and her men could learn from my gang,” he looked indifferent.

            “You don't trust them?”

            “She knows Allan-a-Dale, and from what I can gather, really well,” he looked concerned and she instantly knew why.

            “You think she may be like Allan or his brother, don't you?  And you don't want to make the same mistake that you did.  So do you really want me to sponsor Rowan in the tournament?” she asked, wondering what he was getting at.

            “Yes, that part is true,” he replied, “but I will be entering in his place after the archery contest.  I'll have Will lead the rest of the gang to steal the gold.”

            “Not Much or Allan?” Marian was confused.

            “Much will be my squire, or rather, Rowan's squire.  Allan is too close to this issue right now,” Robin shook his head.

            “So what happens if you advance to the jousting match?”

            “Spencer and Buckingham will be at the tournament.  You will have to ask one of them to defeat me in order to eliminate me from the tournament,” he said, not quite staring at her and instead looked like he was staring inwardly, his plan forming.

            “But in the combat round no one is allowed to wear their sponsor colors.  How will they know?” sometimes it fascinated her to watch Robin come up with his plans.  He looked so focused, so intent, and there was the occasional glint of dangerous fire in his eyes that made her heart beat just a little faster.

            “We'll mark the armor to make it distinctive so they know who to target,” Robin replied.

            “That's dangerous,” Marian couldn't help but voice her worry.

            “It's a risk I'm willing to take,” he hissed quietly at her.

            “When are you going to tell your men?” she asked.

            “Not until the day of the tournament,” he shook his head, “I want to be cautious on this one.  There is a chance that the Sheriff is having this tournament to be an elaborate trap, so I want to be careful.”

            “All right, I'll ask my father to use the family armor,” Marian sensed that Robin wanted to get back into the safety of the woods before the moon rose higher, “be careful Robin.”

            He smiled faintly, “I will.  Thank you Marian.”  He leaned a bit closer to the bars on her window and she obliged his request with a quick kiss on the lips before he disappeared from her window and a few quiet thumps later, he was on the ground, running back into the woods.  She watched him until the woods swallowed his form up and closed her blinds, a small smile on her face.  Part of her felt very girlish at the prospect of sponsoring Robin in a tournament as her knight, even though it was officially Rowan.

            The other part of her was glad that Robin had asked before Sir Guy would have, that way she would already have an excuse instead of stammering her way through it.  All that was left was to convince her father to let Robin and Rowan borrow the family's armor.

                                                *                      *                      *

**OUTLAWS' CAMP**

 

            The moonlit night was ideal for stalking about and that was exactly what he did.  His orders were strict and while he would have liked not to do so, it was an order from his master and he knew those orders were never to be ignored.  The only thing he was really worried about was what _she_ would do when she found out.  It would hurt her indefinitely, but if he had the chance to explain...

            No, he couldn't go against his master's orders.  They were specific and to the point.  His job was to sow confusion and it was what he was going to do.

He silently drew out a small dagger and crept towards his first target.  He scuffled across the ground, trying not to bump into anyone sleeping on the mossy ground.  He hovered over his target, dismayed to find his own hand shaking and sweat starting to form on his brow.

            He sent a silent apology to the heavens above before stabbing down on his target, his eyes squeezed shut.  He thought he had stabbed into flesh when he opened his eyes once more to see angry blue eyes staring up at him, his knife caught in a death grip shaking just above the throat.

            “Traitor!” Anna hissed at him and he flinched before trying to increase pressure, but she did not give way.

            He suddenly tumbled from her as she violently threw her body against him, making him gasp in surprise as his shoulder and hip hit the ground and he rolled.  He scrambled to his feet and looked around wildly as the rest of the camp was startled up.  A flash of the dagger he had used to try to kill Anna made him duck a bit as it went flying past him before he decided to cut his losses and ran.

            He could hear the camp come alive behind him and some of them gathering their weapons and running after him.  He kept running, knowing that he had little time before he had to complete his second task.  To his relief, he heard the sounds of pursuit slowly fade away and stopped behind a large tree trunk, gasping for breath.

            After a few minutes, he peeked out from his impromptu hiding place and through the dim moonlight, noted that he didn't see anyone pursuing him.  He checked the other dagger he had on his body to make sure it was secure before glancing up and around.  If the moon was that way, then he would go the other way, hoping that he would meet his second target before heading to Nottingham to complete his mission.

            He hoped it was worth what his master was planning.

                                                *                      *                      *

**SHERWOOD FOREST**

 

            Robin knew Sherwood like the back of his hand, both in the bright daylight of the sun and in the inky darkness of the night.  The first thing he did when Little John and his men had joined was have them show him around the whole forest.  He had then methodically gone back and traced routes and noted markers within the forest to help him get to their camp.  Much had commented that he had used to do that during their time in the Holy Lands, making sure that the troops that went in and out of a battlefield had at least an escape route of sorts.

            But he also knew that there were times when he and the others within the King's Private Guard couldn't plot out escape routes, having to fight blind and in unknown terrain.  Those were the times that made him nervous, fearing for the safety of his men and for the success of the King's battles.

The snap of a branch underfoot made him froze.  It had come from his left and as far as he knew, no animal in Sherwood was large enough to make such a deliberate noise.  It had to be human.  He knew his men were probably already asleep and his gut feeling told him that someone had followed him, or at least had found him.  Robin looked out into the dimly lit darkness for any signs of an ambush or attack…

He barely had time to bring his hands up in a defensive block as a flash of a silver dagger came plunging down in the darkness, followed by the grunt of the person wielding the dagger.  Robin could only make out the outlines of a man’s face and did not recognize him before he forced him back with a shove.

The assassin went stumbling back into the darkness before a louder grunt of pain as he hit a tree and Robin advanced forward.  Even with the dim moonlight, he could barely see his opponent and knew he had to disable him fast if he wanted to survive the encounter without any injuries.

He ducked again as a punch came straight to his face and felt the air passage of the man’s fist before retaliating with his own kick.  A grim smile worked its way up his face as he felt his leg connect solidly with the man’s gut, sending him back against the tree once more before another flash of silver made him lean to the right to avoid the dagger.

He backpedaled slightly as the man suddenly launched a flurry of attacks against him with the dagger in hand and for once, Robin seriously wished he carried his bow with him whenever he visited Marian.  He knew his accuracy was a bit down in the dark, but having the bow in his hands was at least a good defensive weapon, especially in a night fight like this.

He ducked again as the dagger went slashed over his head and heard several crunches of branches in the distance and his eyes darted over towards the source of the sound.

“I think he’s here!” Much’s voice rang out in the darkness and Robin gave a quick grin of relief just as the blade thrust towards him.  He sudden grabbed the man’s arm and gave him a quick punch in the face to which he grunted in pain before trying to rip his arm out from his grip.

“Much!” he called out, seeing at least two torches in the darkness coming towards him.

“Robin!  We’re coming!” Djaq’s voice also rang out before he gave a yelp of pain as the assassin turned his dagger inward and sliced him across his right forearm, making him lose his grip momentarily.

That was all it took before the man slipped out of his grip and before Robin could grab at his clothes again to hold him, he disappeared into the inky darkness, branches crunching underfoot.  Robin couldn’t make out the direction the man was heading as the sounds of his men got closer before their torches finally lit a small path.

“Are you hurt?!” he saw Much’s concern through the torch he was holding as they approached and glanced down at his right arm, involuntarily grimacing as he shook out the cut.  It stung a bit, but he noted within the torch lights that it wasn’t too deep, but it wasn’t a shallow cut either.

“You’re hurt,” Anna’s voice floated from somewhere in the back and he searched her face out.

“I’m fine,” he replied just as Djaq grabbed his arm and fussed over it, Will edging closer with the torch he was carrying to give her more light.

“It’s not bad,” their resident healer replied, “but I need to wash it and bandage it or else it’ll get infected Robin.”

He nodded his assent before pinning Anna with a glare, “I’m willing to be that was one of your men that attacked me.”

She looked to the ground, ashamed and nodded, “Dennis…”

“But I thought-“ Allan started, but fell silent.

“He’s never spoken a word since he came into my employment.  Lydia used to do all the talking…” Anna looked to her left and Robin saw that the little seventeen-year-old girl was standing very meekly next to her master, ashamed at all the attention she was receiving.

“Well?” Robin knew that his tone was a bit harsh, but he didn’t feel too conciliatory towards any of Anna’s gang at the moment.  Not after what he had told Marian.

She shook her head mutely, edging closer to Anna for some protection.  Robin felt a surge of anger fill him.  He knew masters were supposed to protect their servants from anyone’s wrath, but in light of the attacks he felt a bit angry.  Much rarely looked to him for protection after their first year in the Holy Lands and instead sought to protect him in the Holy Lands instead.  Why was this girl…?

He forced himself to take a quick calming breath.  Getting angry at Lydia would not help things, but he had to make it clear to Anna and the rest of her men that there would be no second chances, and any misstep or anything funny on their part would result in their expulsion.  He did _not_ want a repeat of what happened to Tom-a-Dale.

“I will still extend a measure of my trust to you and your men,” he said sternly, “but if anyone else betrays the gang, you will not, repeat, you will not be allowed to walk away from this with our secrets intact.”

“Robin…”

He cut Allan off with a glare before directing his words at Anna, “There were three men we had taken on a couple of months ago to bolster our group and their leader made the mistake of thinking with his feet first instead of his head.  He did not think out the consequences of his actions and it got him killed.  We were unable to save him or his two companions but we tried.  The Sheriff thought it amusing to gloat over that fact.  Make no mistake; I will not tolerate any of this.  You have once more chance to earn my complete trust or else you will find yourself back in Rochdale without my guidance.”

He knew his words had hurt Allan, but he needed one of his most loyal men to get it in his head that he did not want a repeat of what had happened to Tom.  He did not know what it was like to lose a sibling, but had a feeling that if he ever lost Much, it would hurt so much that it would blind him to certain things.  He did not want that happening to Allan.

“I…understand, Robin.  I can and will personally assure the loyalty of my men,” Anna looked chastened as did the rest of her men, especially Lydia who had unshed tears shining in her eyes.

“Robin, he knows…the plan,” Little John spoke up gruffly.

“You think he’s working for the Sheriff?” Will looked concerned.

“Maybe, but whatever he told the Sheriff will be mostly a lie,” Robin was glad that he had not told anyone the true part of the plan.  As far as Dennis knew, Allan was going to be Marian’s knight while he was going to recover the gold.  Though there was the potential of having Rowan and Marian come under scrutiny, both had proven themselves to him in holding their calm in dire situations.

“What?” Much looked completely confused.

“You never trusted us from the beginning,” realization dawned on Anna’s face at the implications of his words and he nodded grimly at her.

“No I did not,” he replied truthfully, “and now you know why.”

She gave a small sarcastic bark of laughter, “I don’t know if I should be offended or what…”

“Like I said before, I do not want a repeat of what happened to those three men to happen to you and your men,” he shook his head, “it is not your fault.”

“Feels like it is,” Anna replied sarcastically, “you going to withhold the rest of the real plan?”

“No,” Robin gave her a grim smile, “now that I have your assured loyalty, the real planning will begin.”

                                    *                      *                      *

**Author’s Notes:**

            There is a reason why Allan seems a bit out of character.  A _very_ good reason and yes, some of you may guess it, but I’m not answering those guesses at the moment.  You’ll have to read on.  I’m predicting that this will be a three-part story along the lines of _Well Met Steel_ , but of course I had also grossly underestimated the length of _The Assassin’s Gift_.  Remember, I write Robin Hood stories in an episodic format – which gives for long parts and long reads.  ^_^  Enjoy and stay tuned for the next part!

            Oh yeah, _Tournament_ is my summer project, which means it _will_ be finished before September rolls around.


	2. Part 2: Duplicity

Robin Hood: Tournament

By: Shadow Chaser

 

**Author’s Notes:**

Robin Hood and all of its characters do not belong to me.  This story is written for fandom and not for profit.  This story takes place roughly at the end of June around the summer solstice.  A general note is that I graduated college with a minor in History (could have almost double majored except for a few more credits) and have a pretty good knowledge of the Crusades along with European, American, and Asiatic history.

However, this does not mean I know much about nobility titles within England – that is one of my weak spots.  Take all noble titles given in this story (with the exception of already established ones within the TV series) with a grain of salt.

**Story:**

_Part 2 – Duplicity_

 

**KNIGHTON HALL**

 

In the days preceding the annual summer solstice tournament, the camp was a flurry of activity along with Knighton Hall.  The gang and Anna’s men had found out that Dennis had also tried to assassinate the Sheriff and Gisborne the same night that he had attacked both Anna and Robin, leading them to wonder what was going on and if it was all part of a more elaborate trap set by the Sheriff.

Robin had found out the news by way of Marian who during the morning after he had asked her to be his sponsor was asked the same question by Guy of Gisborne.  She had told him that Guy looked flustered and ill at ease and was even sporting a healing cut on his jaw that he said was courtesy of an assassin who had been unsuccessful in his mission but had escaped before anyone could capture him.

He was disturbed by both the news that Dennis had attacked both Gisborne and the Sheriff and had managed to land a small wound on Gisborne’s face, and by the fact that he knew there was something amiss.  Something did not add up with Dennis attacking everyone.  Was he working for someone with higher orders?  Perhaps Prince John had enough of the Sheriff’s antics and had finally sent someone to dispose of the Sheriff, himself, and everyone around them?

But he knew he had to put the news behind him and focus on the tournament.  When he was younger, his father used to take him to the summer solstice festivals every year, sitting in the nobility section to cheer on the knights who were competing for the pride of their sponsor noble.

There was the occasional time he would end up sneaking into the peasantry section since they had a much more rowdy crowd and he loved the noise and color that happened there.  While Locksley rarely sponsored any knights of their own, Robin did remember that his teacher was once a former knight, having only competed once for his family before retiring to train him in the art of combat and archery.  He never did get too many formal jousting training but he had improved the art somewhat during his time in the Holy Lands.  Even still, he had to admit that in the art of jousting, Saladin’s men were much better horsemen.

Two days had past since Dennis had attacked and he was at Marian’s house with Rowan and Much, making final preparations for tomorrow’s tournament.  Will and Djaq had gone to scout out the location of the prize money in Nottingham while Little John, Allan, Anna, and her men were back at camp, finalizing their entry and exit plans.  His men knew the castle like the back of their hands, having done so many heists in and out of it that he knew that they wouldn’t have problems forming a plan to get in and get out.

The only thing that worried him was Allan’s focus.  He knew that their resident thief had some history with Anna, but he had not confronted him about it, hoping that Allan instead would come to him and at least explain himself.  Because if things went south with their plan, he did not want to be late again rescuing their allies.  If Allan didn’t tell him anything by tonight, he knew he would have to confront him before the tournament tomorrow.

“Higher,” Much’s voice cut through his thoughts and he lifted his right arm higher before Much adjusted the fittings of the armor, making a cross mark to differentiate the differences between his fitting and Rowan’s fitting.

Robin had to admit that he was mildly surprised that Marian’s father, Edward, had allowed him to use his family’s armor and crest, considering that he knew Edward distrusted his intentions from time to time and was constantly worried for his daughter’s safety.  Perhaps the man was finally warming up to the idea of an outlaw courting his daughter…

He stifled his laughter, but it was unsuccessful as Marian and Rowan looked at him with funny looks and he shook his head.  “Just thinking…” he noted that Rowan was looking a bit nervous, trying to listen to what Marian was telling him about etiquette of knights being sponsored and gave the young man a grin.  “Relax, Rowan.  Hopefully you won’t have to use any of this…”

“Yeah…just the archery part right?” Rowan laughed nervously.

“Remember what I told you,” Robin glanced at Much who nodded that he could lower his arm once more and he did so before twisting his waist to see his mobility within the armor, “three targets in three distances.  Don’t do more than you can.  You miss the last one, it is fine.  They are expecting you, not me.”

He turned to look at Much, “It’s tight on my left, any chance of loosening it?”

“Anymore and you will not have protection on that side, Robin,” Much shook his head and he grimaced.  He did not like ill-fitting armor.  Ill-fitting armor usually meant death on the battlefield and even in the tournament; those in combat were usually injured.

“Do what you can,” he lifted his left arm up this time and Much sighed before getting back to work on loosening the armor.  Turning back to Rowan he gave him a reassuring smile, “The greatest pressure will be on you to win the archery since you have won the silver arrow, but that was only one target.  When I bow out of the combat phase, wait ten minutes, and then present yourself to Marian and the other nobles and bow before apologizing for your withdrawal.”

He glanced at Marian who nodded in agreement, “I will then tell Much to guide you home and bid you a farewell.”

“Um…what happens…” Rowan looked a bit nervous and scratched the back of his head.

“If you do win the archery section?” Robin continued, glad that the young man had at least the confidence to try to win something instead of just helping out with the plan.  “You can stay in the stands and watch the rest of the tournament.  Just remember, all of us will be gone by the end, except for Much.

“Be prepared though,” he cautioned, “the money won’t be there at the end and the Sheriff will probably be very angry.”

“I understand,” Rowan nodded solemnly before turning to Marian, “I promise no harm will come to you milady.”

Robin grinned at the hint of blush that appeared on his love’s face.  Both of them knew that Rowan would never ever cast aspirations on her since she clearly belonged to Robin, but it was still amusing to see her blush from all of the attention.

“At this rate, he will become a knight someday,” a new voice from the back of them made them turn to see Anna coming from the kitchens, a sheen of sweat on her face.

“What are you doing here?” Robin asked his tone warning.  She knew never to come to Knighton Hall during the day when the Sheriff’s spies could easily see anyone approaching.  Robin and Much had arrived during the wee early hours of the morning and had spent most of the day indoors.  The times that he had arrived during the day he had always made sure that the spies watching Knighton Hall were either incapacitated or busy with other things, mostly a distraction of either loose animals or something on fire.

“Don't worry...I let loose chickens in a couple of the houses,” Anna waved his concern away, but he continued to frown at her.  She was trying, he could tell, she was trying her hardest to learn, her hardest to understand that life as an outlaw, especially for an ex-noble, was going to be very hard.  But then some of her actions were like those of the privileged and her blatant disregard for caution or just dismissing other comments as frivolous bothered him to no end.

“Sorry,” she finally noted his frown and apologized, staring at the ground sullenly.

Robin sighed and gave her a look, “What's the news?”

“Will and Djaq got back.  They said that half of the money was located out in an open area surrounded by guards, but the other half is most definitely located somewhere in the storerooms.  There are at least two units of guards each and they suspect more are going to be for the half that is outside for peasants and tournament goers to see,” Anna crossed her arms across her chest.

“That'll be a problem,” he conceded.  He had hoped the Sheriff would stuff all of the money into NottinghamCastle where it would have been easier for them to get at it, but such wasn't the case.  “Looks like the Sheriff's gotten a bit smarter about leaving his money in places where people can take them.”

“I can come up with a preliminary plan with your men to get the money out in the open and when you come back tonight you can review it, all right?  The castle plan should still be in place, but we'll have to divide our men up,” Anna suggested.

“Do so, I'll be finished in a couple of hours,” he agreed and she turned and curtsied towards Marian before heading back to the kitchens and out into the back.

“She certainly is…nobility,” Marian stared at the kitchens and Robin resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her obvious statement.

“She’s impulsive and too new,” he said instead, “I’ve told her not to approach your house during daylight.  At this point I’m about to swear that all people from Rochdale are hard of hearing.”

“Or stubborn,” Much added.

“Or stubborn,” he agreed before lowering his arm as Much finished adjusting his left side.  He twisted back and forth before grabbing the pommel of his Saracen sword proffered by his former manservant and swung it back and forth experimentally, testing out his reach and making a few wide arcs with it.  He knew he would be using a long sword, but in order for him to experiment his armor with the long sword, he would have to be outside and right now, they couldn’t go outside.  A lopsided smile worked its way up the corner of his lips as he felt relatively comfortable within the armor and finished his flourishes.

“It’s good,” he gave the blade back to Much who promptly sheathed it and started to help him out of the armor.

“You’re going to have a slight blind spot on your left hand side, since it is a bit exposed, but it’s the best I could do with this armor,” Much looked worried and Robin shrugged.

“I’ll just make sure my shield stays over there,” he understood Much’s concern; after all, it was almost the same thing they had done during their time in the Holy Lands.  However he didn’t expect too serious of an injury during a Tournament.  It wasn’t a killing blow they had to dealt, but rather how many hits they could inflict upon a person in the set length of an hourglass that had been measured to about five minutes or so.  In any battle, even mock ones that didn’t injure too much, five minutes was a long time.

However, this also made for a very fast elimination during the Tournament since there would be only one-win rounds before they would advance.  The timer would go down to four, then three, and finally two minutes to decide the champion of the combat phase.  However, most opponents yielded after two minutes of being battered by their opponents anyways and the five minute rule had been set at least fifteen years ago when the King back then held a Tournament and in the opening round, two of his best knights went at it without faltering for at least fifteen minutes.  Both had been so exhausted by the end of their match that the winner had not been decided and both had forfeited their winning rounds to their opponents due to exhaustion.

“You can choose a shield?” Rowan looked surprised and Robin grinned.

“You don’t have to,” he winked at Marian, “but it’s usually beneficial since the shield will have your sponsor’s crest on it.  So if you win…”

“Everyone will know,” Rowan nodded, understanding, “uh…how should I present myself with the sword and shield at the end?”

“Like this,” Robin walked over to the table where the weapons he would be using during the Tournament laid.  A blunt long sword, except for the sharpened tip, held Marian’s family crest on the guard along with a short sword for his other side, and finally, three shields, one large and broad, one medium, for jousting purposes, and the third, a smaller one that was for close combat.  The large one was also for the combat phase, but Robin much preferred using a smaller one because of its weight and he liked moving about instead of having to lug around such a large sheet of metal.

He picked up the smaller shield and held it in his left hand and lifted it slightly so Rowan could see his waist.  “This,” he pointed to his left hip, “is where the long sword is kept.”  “And this,” he now pointed to his right hip, “is where you keep your short sword.”

“What’s the short sword for?” the young man asked, looking interested.

“In battle, if you happen to lose your main weapon, you should always have a back up.  In the combat round, well, some men prefer the short sword over the long one, not because of reach, but because of mobility.”

“That the same as in real combat?  Is that why you carry a Saracen weapon instead of a long sword?” Rowan asked and Robin frowned slightly.

He glanced back at his sword, a stark reminder of what had happened to him in the Holy Lands and the last time- Robin quickly killed his thoughts, not wanting to remember the real reason why he carried the Saracen blade.  His bow was enough of a reminder to him and he didn’t need to remind himself of the blade either…

“That…is a…gift,” he replied as evasively as he could.  He just hoped Much would be smart enough not to say anything as he also knew the history behind his possession of that blade.

“Oh,” he could see that Rowan wanted to ask more questions about the blade, but wisely didn’t say anything.  Instead, Robin handed him the shield and he hefted it, smiling slightly at its weight.

“Don’t smile just yet,” he cautioned with some humor, the dark cloud of his thoughts just a few seconds ago evaporating, “hold it like that for the next twenty minutes then tell me how you feel.”

“No problem,” Rowan looked enthused at the prospect and he heard Much’s stifled laughter behind him and even Marian looked amused at the young man’s eagerness.  Robin knew that in about twenty minutes, Rowan would be singing another tune all together…but he couldn’t fault him for being so eager to help them.

“All right,” he turned back to Much, “what’s next?”

“Helmet,” Much shoved the helmet into his hands and he stared at it, an involuntary sigh emerging from his lips.

“I hate helmets,” he muttered none too loudly.

                                    *                      *                      *

**SHERWOOD FOREST**

 

Robin and Much returned to their camp later in the evening, having spent the rest of the afternoon after perfecting the armor fittings on both him and Rowan, teaching the young man some of the basics of swordplay and trying to help him improve his archery in the edges of Sherwood.  Marian had provided a distraction by pretending to let her mount spook a bunch of goats and sheep into running all over town and letting the three of them escape into the edges of the woods unnoticed.

Both Robin and Much were slightly bruised from their sparring, Much more so than Robin since he had bore the brunt of both him showing Rowan basic moves and Rowan completing the moves with varying success.

“You’re lucky I love you enough to tolerate that abuse,” Much was complaining as they entered the camp and Robin grinned as he saw his friend make a beeline towards Djaq to perhaps get some medicine from her for his aches and pains.

“Robin,” Little John greeted him before handing him a steaming plate of…

“Is this squirrel?” he looked down at the charred meat and a few vegetables that looked like they had been overcooked.

“Anna,” Little John didn’t look too pleased at all by the meal and lifted his plate slightly and through the dim fire light he saw that the big man was also eating some bits of charred meat and overcooked vegetables.

Robin nodded, wisely not saying anything as he nibbled on the edges of the charred meat.  And here he thought they couldn’t cook a decent meal.  Anna practically burnt their dinner.  He barely kept the grimace off of his face at the burnt squirrel meat before hastily eating the vegetables.  At least they were edible, even though a bit on the mushy side.

“Cheer up,” Allan spoke up and he looked up just in time to catch half a loaf of bread that was tossed his way, “at least the bread’s pre-baked.”

“Hey!  I resent that!” Anna spoke up from near the fire and Robin could see her carefully grilling two more squirrels, this time determined not to burn them.

Robin shook his head and quickly finished his meal, ignoring the sour taste of charred meat before walking over and tapped their resident thief on the shoulder.

“Robin?”

“Come on, checking traps,” he gestured for Allan to follow him and the man blinked a few times before getting up and following him away from the camp.

“But we checked traps this afternoon already,” Allan said as they walked along the many smaller paths in and out of Sherwood, “and don’t we-“

Robin stopped by one of the many tall rock-ravines that had a sheer drop to the forest floor below.  This was one of the spots he knew travelers had gone through and it was a very effective spot to set up an ambush.  However, it wasn’t the point as there were no signs of struggling travelers or animals…

“What’s your history with Anna?” he turned and pinned Allan with a simple look.

“What?!” Allan looked at him with shock, “I don’t mean to be funny, but what are you-“

“You call her milady the other day and even bowed down and kissed her ring,” Robin knew their resident thief was dodging the question.  “There is something between the two of you.  I want to know what.”

“What, so you can take it out on me like you did with my brother Tom?” Allan’s expression closed up a bit and he crossed his arms across his chest, “I’m sorry mate, but there’s nothing going on.  I just know her from back when I was in Rochdale.”

“I did not take it out-,” Robin looked at Allan, appalled and confused, “I tried to save your brother!”

“Yeah, and he died,” Allan looked away, anger evident on his face.

Robin remembered that Allan had been grateful that he had given Tom a second chance, even a third chance after he had stolen all of their horses and had been captured by the Sheriff.  That third chance didn’t come to fruition as Tom-a-Dale and his two followers had died an hour before the scheduled time.  It had also been like a physical blow to Robin as he realized that he needed to protect his men better, needed to make sure that anyone who associated with them would not invite reprisals from the Sheriff or Gisborne.

“Allan,” and it was the reason why he could not understand why Allan had such a change in heart over his brother’s death.  Right now of all times…  “I tried to save him.  We all did…he was family…”

“I know,” Allan still looked away from him, but his voice was rough with emotion and it finally clicked in Robin’s head why Allan was acting this way.

“There’s something between you, Tom, and Anna, isn’t there?” he couldn’t claim to be the best at reading emotions from others, that title belonged to one of his dear friends who was still back in the Holy Lands, but he was somewhat good at it.  Plus, it was the only thing that really made sense at the moment.

“No,” was the quick reply but Robin kept his silence and after a few minutes Allan finally nodded, his face barely visible in the dim night, “Yes…Tom…he loved her.  So she’s like a…sister…to me.”

Robin fully understood what Allan was saying.  A person of his station, a peasant and probably even worst, a petty thief and crook, could never aspire to be any higher position in society unless they had become servants of a noble like Much did and was award a title.  However, it was not uncommon to find many nobles around the area and even he had heard rumors in London, the higher nobility members, picking up servants or even local peasants to be their lovers.  Tom was probably one to Anna he supposed.  But the way Allan described his relationship with Anna…

“The whole of Rochdale knew, didn’t they?” The side, excursions if it could be called that, weren’t generally known to the populace and only existed in rumors and hearsay.  The reputation of the noble would be far more sullied than that of the peasant if anyone were to find out.  However, that was not to say that occasionally both parties would be elevated to a higher stature if the Church had agreed to the union.

“And drove us out,” Allan looked uncomfortable to be talking about his past, “or at least Anna’s family did…  Thought it was unbecoming of their daughter…”

With whatever little he could recall of the Rushcliffe family he knew that Allan and his brother Tom were lucky enough to survive being driven out of town instead of instantly hung or even beheaded.  The Rushcliffes were far older than his own bloodline and would not tolerate such frivolities.

“You’re lucky you got out of there with your head intact,” he murmured quietly.

Allan snorted slightly, “More like we escaped the stocks…  Went onto the road…parted ways after he robbed me, you know?  Made a scrap of living for myself by stealing what I could until, well, you saved me back there, the chopping of fingers and all.”

“Twice,” Robin had to add.

“Twice,” Allan looked at him again and Robin could see that the man’s eyes were slightly hooded, but otherwise had a slight mirth in them, “would’ve hung if I didn’t say I was from Locksley…”

“Or you could have when you did,” Robin had to point that out and hugged his arm across his chest, “you skim luck a lot, my friend.”

“Yeah,” a crooked smile appeared on his face, “but I get lucky most of the time…”

“So does Anna’s story check out?” he asked, finally glad that Allan had come clean with him.

“Oh she’s nobility and all-“

“I meant about her family being killed by Prince John,” he cut him off.

“Probably,” the thief and con man shrugged, “I remember that the Rushcliffes, old as they may be, weren’t stupid enough to follow Prince John’s heavy taxation while the King was in the Holy Lands.  They were good nobles…old and a bit tight down there if you know what I mean, but they made sure Rochdale prospered instead of becoming down trodden like the other places.  So yeah…may have gotten a bug in the Prince’s ear enough for him to send his army in.”

“You don’t seem too sad about it…”

“Can’t say that I liked them, except for Anna, after what they did to Tom and me,” Allan shrugged and Robin nodded.  He didn’t blame him.  If Edward had done the same thing to him while he was courting Marian, he wouldn’t hold him in such high favor.

“Do you know any of her gang?” he asked.

Allan shook his head, “No, not really.  Lydia and Dennis maybe, but they were probably just kids when we left.”

“Robin?” Djaq’s distant voice came from their left.

“What is it?” he called back.

“We want to finalize the plan with you,” Djaq called back and Robin sighed.  He remembered that Anna had told them that half of the loot was outside in the open.  He hoped that they had come up with a good plan…

“Come on,” he gestured to Allan to follow him back to camp.

“You go on.  I already know what I’m doing.  It’s a good plan,” Allan absently waved to the general darkened woods, “kind of want to think for a bit.”

“You sure?” he knew it was contrary to what the man usually did, but he suspected that all members of his gang occasionally needed solitude of sorts.  Djaq for her daily prayers and bathing, Will just to relax and whittle away at all sorts of things, Little John probably thinking of Alice and his son Little Little John, and even he sought solitude whenever his nightmares were too much for him.  The only one he knew that didn’t seek solitude was Much.  He liked staying with the group.

“Yeah,” Allan nodded and Robin headed away back towards the camp.  He was a few feet away from Allan when the man spoke up again, “Hey Robin!”

He turned and though he couldn’t see Allan’s face in the dark of the night, he saw his shadowed figure standing loosely, “Anna’s good.  She won’t…she won’t be like Tom.”

Robin nodded before turning back around and continued walking.  “I hope so,” he murmured mostly to himself, “for your sake Allan, I hope so.”

                                    *                      *                      *

Allan considered heading back to camp after Robin had left, but instead of making a straight path for it, he wandered the outskirts, occasionally checking the other traps that had been set up around the area.  No travelers in any of them, but he did find a struggling doe in one and released it gently from the trap before resetting it.  He could have killed the doe and it would have provided the camp with meat to last a while, but it would have taken too much time to tan the hide off of it, cut the meat apart and salt it for preservation than they could allow at the moment.

“You were always kind to animals, to people.  That’s what I liked about you,” Anna’s voice spoke up near him and he turned slightly to see her walking up to him, a smile on her face.  Even in the inky darkness of night, he could barely see her, but instead froze slightly as she suddenly embraced him and kissed him on the cheek.

He pushed her away immediately and closed his eyes, “That was a long time ago.  I’ve changed.  You’ve changed.  We’ve all changed.”

“But Allan-“

“And,” he said roughly, suppressing the emotions he had once held for her, “I would appreciate if you did not tell the others what’s between us.  I’m different now.  I’m not the same as I was in Rochdale.”  He hated using formal language, but it had been something that she had taught him when they were younger, when they were children just looking out for each other.  Back then she had truly believed that she would be able to keep him close to her and had taught him so many things – a mere peasant.

He would never admit it to Robin, but one of the reasons he followed him willingly besides having owe him his life twice over, was because he was afraid Robin was going to make the same foolish mistakes Anna did and he did not want to see another self-sacrificing person make the same mistakes, not while he was there to prevent it.  However, he had to admit that his own greed and jealousy at how beloved Robin became to the people had reared its ugly head and which was one of the reasons why he had taken the loot from Locksley Manor and convinced Will to take a jaunt to Scarborough.

“So formal,” she laughed, the same tinkling laughter he had not heard in such a long time, “Allan-a-Dale, you do still retain some of what I’ve taught you!”

“No,” he replied flatly, “just…why did you come?  Why couldn’t you stay in Rochdale like you were supposed to little the good little girl you were?”

“Girl?” her laughter stopped and she looked at him, anger in her eyes, “I’m the only one left of my _family_ , Allan.  Prince John saw to that.  You still think I’m just a little girl who doesn’t know right from wrong?  Besides, how in the bloody hell was I supposed to know that you were here?!  You and Tom said you were going to go to Liverpool or something!”

“Tom’s dead,” Allan abruptly whirled around to face her, “Sheriff killed him months ago.  Said he was part of Robin’s gang and so he was killed.  This is what will happen if you get involved, Anna.”

She stared at him in shock for a few minutes before lowering her head.  “I’m sorry…I didn’t know…”

He sighed, feeling ragged.  His feelings for her had become so jumbled in the past day that he wanted to hate her for deciding to become an outlaw like him, yet wanted to love her again because now there was nothing between them anymore.  Wanted to hate her still because he had suspected she loved Tom more than him, wanted to love her because Tom wasn’t alive anymore to snatch away his chance at happiness.

“You…want me to leave, because of what happened to Tom, is that right?” Anna asked after the silence between them was too much for either of them to bear.

“You’re not going to, aren’t you?” he replied and looked to the side, silently snorting, “still the same old stubborn Anna…”

“You haven’t changed that much either…except become more secretive,” she gave him a faint smile before placing a hand on his cheek, “I promise.  After this, I’ll take my gang and we’ll leave.  I’ll go back to Rochdale and kick Prince John’s men out.  Then, you can return.  Back to the home that was always there.”

Allan felt his lips twitch into a smile before he shook his head.  “Maybe.  Robin needs me here though…”

“You don’t owe Robin anything,” she looked a bit hurt and Allan wanted to tell her that Robin had saved his life twice over, but something about that made him hesitate.  He had paid that debt didn’t he?  Anna’s offer was tempting and inviting.  He knew he would be truly happy if he returned to Rochdale with her…but….

“Convince the others there first and I’ll consider it,” he knew that Anna would have a lot of work ahead of her trying to repair his reputation that was sullied by her family.

“Challenging, but then again, what’s life without a few challenges,” she smiled and nodded, “all right then Allan-a-Dale.  You’ve got a deal.”  She grabbed his hand and shook it before dragging him along, “Come on.  We need to make sure Robin didn’t change my plan on getting the money out from the open.”

“Anna,” Allan shook his hand out of her and barely noticed the hurt in her eyes before she smiled at him, “not a word.”  She dipped her head once before they continued back to the camp, unaware of a pair of eyes and ears that had heard their whole conversation.

                                    *                      *                      *

**KNIGHTON HALL**

 

The next morning was a flurry of activity in the camp as the outlaws hastily made their preparations before heading out to NottinghamCastle and joined the crowds at the gates to get into the festivities.  However, Robin and Much were not there to see the jostling and stepped feet of the masses suddenly come alive at the prospect of free food and festivities that had turned Nottinghamshire into a lively and vibrant place.

Instead, the two of them were already at Knighton Hall, having slipped out of camp just before dawn and had arrived before anyone else was awake.  Rowan was already there, having spent the night in the guest quarters of the house.  Marian had been asleep until Much accidentally dropped one of the heavy shields after helping Sir Edward load them onto the ornate coach they were going to be taking into town.

She had awakened in a frazzled state and had rushed downstairs with a sword in hand which ended up making Robin bursting out in laughter, followed by Rowan who looked embarrassed.  Only Much looked mortified and Edward had shaken his head before Marian had soundly whacked Robin on the shoulder with the flat of her blade and huffed back upstairs.

She came down moments later with the clothing that Rowan was going to wear for the Archery contest and for the duration of the Tournament that showed he was representing Marian and her father.  It was a simply made tunic, but dashed with the colors of the crest and a smaller emblem version was on his left breast pocket.  Leather jerkin pants were hemmed and stitched with fine skill and everything was tailored to fit Rowan’s measurements exactly.

Rowan had stared at the lovely outfit for a few seconds, his mouth agape before he looked questioning at both Marian and Edward, the latter whom had a proud smile on his face before rushing to his room and hastily changing his outfit.  He emerged a few minutes later and Robin had to adjust the collar just a little bit and pulled down on a few errant ruffles in the sleeves and vest before presenting him to Marian and Edward as the Fitzwalter’s champion.

“Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” Much murmured next to him as both of them stepped back to let Edward inspect Rowan closely making a few noises under his breath before stepping back to his daughter and gave her a nod.

She then rose formally and held out her hand to Rowan who looked confused for a second before realizing what he needed to do.

Robin grinned as he watched the young man bow before her hand and grasped her fingers lightly.  “Milady Marian.  It is an honor to be your champion.”

“Yes it does,” he replied to Much’s query before glancing towards the table where small bundles of clothing tied together with twine sat.  “Which one’s mine?” he noted there were two piles of servant clothes, one for him while Rowan participated in the archery contest, one for Rowan while he participated in the combat contest.”  There were also two piles of under armor clothes that were meant for the switch later on after Robin had bowed out of the combat phase and Rowan had to present himself in full armor to Marian and her father.

“The one on the right,” Much replied and he went over and picked up the clothes on the right.

“Rise, Rowan son of Dunn,” Marian’s reply was formal, but it held her laughter in it, “and become my knight and champion.”

He watched as Rowan stood up, still holding Marian’s fingertips before lifting them up and kissing the back of her hand gently and then released them.  “How did I do?” he whispered, a blush suffusing his cheeks.

“Like a true champion,” Edward replied, “you may yet have a talent for this young man.”

To anyone, that would be a compliment, but to Robin he knew what Edward was really saying.  Those words, however directed at Rowan and his attempt to be Marian’s champion, were really meant for him.  Edward still did not approve so readily of Robin’s rebellion against the Sheriff, but he was beginning to understand that there were some things that just could not be avoided.

Robin excused himself and hurried to Rowan’s room to quickly change into his own costume.  The servant’s outfit was deliberately a bit larger than his own clothes so he could wear it as a layered item, but Robin knew that he would have to be careful in the summer heat.  Too much clothing and he would pass out from heat exhaustion.  It was one of the many things that plagued the troops in the Holy Lands when they were fighting during the summer months there.  Their chain mail had gotten so heavy and stifling that many of the men fought without them.  However, it also meant that they were less protected against arrows and swords and fell much easier in combat because they were so used to having that measure of protection on them.

The last part of his outfit was a cloth covering his mouth and a hood covering his head so that only his eyes showed.  Since he and Rowan had similar eye coloring and upper facial features, it would be impossible to tell them apart unless one knew what he was looking for.  He emerged from the room and started to help Much load the rest of the stuff onto the cart, shooing Rowan away since he was obviously now dressed as the champion and having him help would be a little unbecoming to anyone watching.

Instead, he told Rowan to see to Marian and Edward if they needed anything and also to at least eat something before they headed in because once they were in, servants would rarely get to see any meals.

Robin and Much had already eaten cold leftover squirrels and bread before heading out to Knighton Hall and had packed some cheese and bread just in case they didn’t have anything to eat while waiting for the other competitors.  The rest of the gang along with Anna’s gang would be already inside, making their way to the loot inside the castle and stealing that one first before attempting their daring plan to make off with the more visible one outside.  The plan that Anna had come up with wouldn’t interfere with their distraction of the Sheriff and Gisborne, but it would make one big distraction of peasantry.

Instead of stealing the money to give to the poor Anna suggested that they just shoot it down and let the peasants scramble for the money.  That way they would get rid of the middle man.  Allan had volunteered to shoot, since he now knew that he wasn’t going to take Robin’s place in the Tournament and Robin had agreed.

The other thing was that if any of them got captured by the Sheriff, they would be able to deny any involvement with Marian or her father since they did not know her family’s colors or shield.  He hoped that no one would be captured, but with their recent streak of luck, he tended to err on the side of caution.

They finished loading the supplies and armament just as Marian, Edward, and Rowan came out, the former two dressed in rich finery befitting Edward’s former station and climbed aboard the coach.  Much and Robin climbed to the front and checking that everyone was settled in, cracked the whip on the horses to start their journey to NottinghamCastle.

They were joined by several other coaches bearing various nobles from around the shire and even from beyond the shire as Robin recognized a few crests, one belonging to Buckingham and another to Winchester.  A few peasants walked along side them as they headed up the main road into NottinghamCastle, but they were pushed back by the guards who let the nobles through first before letting the peasants in.

Robin glanced back and saw that Marian was biting her lip to keep from stepping off of the coach to give money to the poor who were on the side of the road, begging the passersby’s for any money they could spare.  He sent her what he hoped was a reassuring stare before turning back around as the guards cleared them to pass through and directed them to the tents where all the tournament participants were going to be.

As Much expertly directed the horses through the crowded streets, Robin couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia engulf him.  This is what Nottingham should have been every day.  Full of people and full of life…not some lifeless town that couldn’t even barely afford Market Day on Wednesdays.  Colors and banners streamed everywhere and there was not even a frown on sight save for shopkeepers who were bargaining hard with their customers.

They made it to the enclosed area and Much guided the horses to a corner where the cover offered them the most opportunity to change without being noticed.  Robin and Much started to unload some of the small chairs and materials to make a small tent next to the coach when he stiffened slightly as he heard a familiar voice a few feet away.

“Ah, Marian,” Guy of Gisborne, “I thought you said you weren’t attending this year’s Tournament.”

“Sir Guy,” Robin turned his head ever so slightly to see Marian gave Guy a plastered smile before gesturing, “it is not because I declined to sponsor you as my knight.  But it is because when I visited Treeton a few days ago, I recognized young Rowan here and he had spoken that he would love the opportunity to try his hand at Archery once more.”

“There’s also combat and jousting,” it was an effort to restrain himself from going straight up to Gisborne and throttling him for standing so close to Marian.  Granted the man had lead Marian to safety after she was shot by James a week ago, but he still would rather stab him in the gut for betraying the King like that.

“My father has been teaching him the rudimentary basics,” Marian replied a bit loftily.

“The boy has talent,” Edward quickly spoke up stepping up next to her daughter and forcing Gisborne to back up a step or else not to seem improper or to challenge Edward.

Gisborne looked at Rowan, his face not even concealing his sneer of distaste.  “We shall see when the time comes.”  He turned back to Marian and made a curt bow, “Marian.  Sir Edward,” and abruptly turned on his heel and left them, walking away quickly.

“Robin you don’t need to take over for me in the combat-“ Rowan started and Robin shook his head.

“No,” he understood exactly where Rowan was going with his train of thought, “you are not facing Gisborne with the intention of killing him.  He’ll kill you first and without a second thought.”

“But Robin-“

“He is right, Rowan,” Marian placed a firm hand on the young man’s shoulder, “Sir Guy would sooner bend the rules of the tournament and see you face down on the ground then let you beat him even if you do try to kill him.  My guess is that he’s sponsored by the Sheriff and the Sheriff would call your death an unfortunate loss and not even blink an eye.”

“And you too Robin,” Marian suddenly looked at him and he crinkled his brow.

“What?”

“You said so yourself.  You are not getting that far into the combat part of the tournament.  We have already had a plan in place, remember?  Your men?  The money?” she looked at him with a simple look and he realized that she knew what he had been thinking of if he wanted to throw the plan away.  She knew him too well…

“So now you believe me?” he challenged her, feeling a bit smug that even she had her doubts about Gisborne and his supposed illness when he was in reality trying to kill the King in the Holy Lands.

“No,” she replied, “but I do know what you’re thinking.”

“That’s not…” he was about to say it wasn’t fair, but he realized that she was probably even more stubborn than he was and knew that in the long run, he wouldn’t be able to win this argument against her.  He shook his head before gesturing to Rowan to come and pick up his bow and arrows.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Marian and her father turn to leave to head out into the stands where they would get a good seat in the nobles box near the Sheriff.  A few minutes later Much had completed dressing Rowan in a green cloak with a simple brooch and had his arrow pack slung over his shoulder and bow in hand.

“Now remember, three targets.  Don’t worry if you don’t hit them.  Marian and her family’s honor would not be compromised if you do.  Many of the other knights here are of noble birth and you are just amongst a handful of common folk who are competing.  They don’t expect much out of you so don’t worry,” he murmured to Rowan quietly.

“Yeah, but the peasants know me as the winner of the Silver Arrow during the spring festival,” Rowan looked at him apprehensively, “I want to do well…”

Robin grinned even though it was invisible under his cloth mask, “That’s the spirit.”

“Thanks Robin,” Rowan grinned back before heading out with Much, leaving him alone.  A few minutes later he heard the distant roar of the crowds and trumpets announcing the start of the tournament.  He could almost see it, the revelry, and the emotional high of the crowd carrying everywhere…

His gang, Anna, and her men would probably be on their way sneaking into the town and up to the castle now, blending in with the still arriving crowds.  The plan called for their raid to happen as the combat phase started, because that was one of the main attractions of the day before jousting the day after.  Everyone, the guards included, would be hard pressed to stay at their posts in order to watch some sword fighting fun.

He had told his gang and Anna’s men to enjoy themselves if they had decided to come early to the tournament, but not to arouse any suspicion.  But they were to execute their plan when the combat phase begun.  But that wasn’t until probably afternoon…  He just hoped Dennis wasn’t amongst the crowd nor did any of them run into him.  Otherwise, their plan may be shot.  He still couldn’t quite believe that Dennis was not working for the Sheriff, but it did seem odd that he would attack both the Sheriff and Gisborne and disappear afterwards.  It was more likely that Dennis had been sent by Prince John or seemingly converted when Anna was driven out of Rochdale.

That was probably the likely story, but he didn’t want to ask Anna about it at the moment, if only to spare her the pain of betrayal at the hands of one of the people she had thought was loyal to her family.

Robin sat on the cot that was lying in front of the tent, wondering what he could do to past the time.  As a servant, he was not supposed to leave his post in guarding his masters’ equipment, coach, and horses, but nor could he practice swinging his sword or else the people next to him would be suspicious of his true motives.  He supposed he could finish setting up the small camp for Rowan the knight, but they would be leaving soon anyways…

Another roar from the crowd made Robin glance at the small path that lead to the tournament grounds before he returned his gaze to nothing in particular.  Closing his eyes, he decided to relive his own memories of the tournaments he had been to when he was just a young boy…

                                    *                      *                      *

**NOTTINGHAM** **TOWN**

 

The sharp poke of an arrowhead against his shoulder made Robin jump up a bit as he realized he had fallen into a light doze and he looked behind him to see Rowan with a smile on his face, holding an arrow pointed at him.  Behind him were Marian and Much, Marian not keeping the smile off of her face as she had caught him dozing.

“He got second place,” Marian said as Rowan’s grin grew wider, “the Earl of Winchester’s knight won the last draw.  I’ve also talked to our mutual friend and the plan is in place.  His man will be wearing a green-white strip of cloth.”

“Good,” Robin stretched slightly before heading into the tent to change out of his clothes, followed by Rowan and Much, carrying the armor.

“Master Rowan, please leave your weaponry outside,” Much affected a much simpler tone for the benefit of anyone else listening or watching and Rowan blushed slightly as he was just about to go in with his bow and arrow still on him.  He quickly stripped himself of his weaponry before ducking into the tent.  Much closed the tent flaps behind him and Robin quickly changed out of his outfit before holding his hands out wide to let Much put the under clothing of the armor on him before putting the armor itself on.

Meanwhile Rowan changed out of the pretty maroon-grey knight’s outfit Marian had made for him and into the under armor clothing before putting on his servants clothing on top of that.

“This is stifling,” he commented before adjusting the hood and attempting to wrap the cloth around his nose and mouth.

“You’ll be expected to stay here, so you won’t have to move too much,” Robin replied, “adjust the knot to your left.  Mine was right behind my ear.”

“I can understand why you fell asleep,” Rowan’s voice as a bit muffled as he adjusted the knot, “hot, stifling, comfortable.”

Robin was about to retort when Much jammed the helmet onto his head and Robin could hear his own harsh breaths filtering in the enclosed metal.  He could see out of the slit for his eyes, but it was mostly a horizontal plane of gaze and less vertical than he liked.  He glanced down and barely saw through his field of vision Much finishing up his with his legs before taking the sword belt and wrapping it around his waist a few times and handed him his short sword to which he put to his right side before accepting the long sword and stuffing the sheath into his belt.  Adjusting his belt once more, he accepted the small shield bearing Marian’s family crest on it and was about to stroll out of the tent.

“Wait, Master!” Much called and made an adjustment to his shoulder, “almost forgot the cloth…”

Much stepped back and he marched out, feeling comfortable with the weight of the armor on him.  It had been too long since he had fought in armor…  He found Marian waiting for them outside and saw her eyes widen a bit in surprise at seeing him all dressed in her family’s armor before she smiled.

“My knight,” she gave a curtsy and he wanted to lift the faceplate to let her see his smile, but knew that too many others were watching.  Instead, he twisted slightly feeling comfortable with his movements just as he heard Rowan and Much step out and turned a bit.

“We ready?” he asked, his voice echoing around his full enclosure helmet.

“Good luck,” Rowan called as he took his seat on the cot and Marian turned around and headed back towards the path to take them out to the Tournament grounds.

While it was common for sponsors to check on their knights, they usually didn’t lead them directly into the waiting area of the combat arena.  Robin followed at some distance, guided silently by Much who directed him with little nudges to his back towards the holding area since he could barely see out of his helmet and whispered warnings of either a step, or even a rock he was about to trip on.

He could hear the muffled yells of the crowd and nearly clapped his hands to his ears at the ringing sound his helmet produced for him.  It was very loud…but finally got muffled as he entered the holding area where he saw other knights, some standing, others sitting, even some swinging their weapons experimentally.  A few had their helmets on and looked like him, but more than one had their helmets off so they could breathe far easier in the summer heat.

Robin immediately spotted Gisborne in the far corner, helmet off, wearing a fine-looking armor, and was adjusting the straps on his shield that held the crest and seal of the Sheriff’s colors, black-yellow.  He knew that without a doubt, Gisborne would advance to the final combat stages and was a bit disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to fight him today.  Not with so much money at stake…

“Master,” Much’s voice was a warning in his ear and he turned his head slightly.

“I know,” he replied quietly before heading over to an empty space on a bench and sat down, waiting for the announcement of his name and his opponent’s name.

He hoped his gang was having success in finding the loot…

                                    *                      *                      *

**Author’s Notes:**

            So I noticed my promise of this being a summer project flew straight out of the window when the Harry Potter bug bit me hard and refused to let go for a long while.  Then I got sucked into a different fandom and only have returned here just a week before the premier of Season 3 here in the States.  Oops.  I hope to have had this story done hopefully before Season 3 goes on BBCA, but it may not be the case.  Oh well…


	3. Part 3: Betrayal

Robin Hood: Tournament

By: Shadow Chaser

 

**Author’s Notes:**

Robin Hood and all of its characters do not belong to me.  This story is written for fandom and not for profit.  This story takes place roughly at the end of June around the summer solstice.  A general note is that I graduated college with a minor in History (could have almost double majored except for a few more credits) and have a pretty good knowledge of the Crusades along with European, American, and Asiatic history.

However, this does not mean I know much about nobility titles within England – that is one of my weak spots.  Take all noble titles given in this story (with the exception of already established ones within the TV series) with a grain of salt.

**Story:**

_Part 3 – Betrayal_

 

**ARENA,** **NOTTINGHAM** **TOWN**

 

Robin flourished the long sword one more time before clanging it on the metal shoulder of his latest opponent and stepped back, scoring the last and final point he needed before the heavy bell sounded, signaling the end of the bout.  The crowd around him cheered wildly and though normally one would lift up his faceplate to greet his followers and fans, Robin knew that he couldn’t risk exposing himself even though he felt their love and adoration.

“The winner,” the announcer said loudly into a makeshift amplifier, “Rowan son of Dunn!”  At the call of Rowan’s name the crowd cheered even more loudly and Robin wished he had stuck a few pieces of cloth in his ears to keep them from rattling with all of the noise that his helmet amplified.

However, he grimaced and lifted his arms again, waving to the crowd that he could see through his slit.  He turned and bowed slightly towards Marian and the rest of the nobles sitting in their designated box before walking back to the holding area where the ranks had been considerably thinned in the past few battles before his first one that he had just finished.

It had been easy to score many points on his hapless opponent, some man by the name of Ronald who represented one of the lords that sniveled after the Sheriff.  However, besides scoring points on the man, he had made sure his swordplay had been flashy, pleasing the crowd as their cheers usually and occasionally influenced if a loser went on to the next round or of the winner was declared the loser.  It was one of the things he had liked about the combat part of the tournament when he was younger.  It gave him a voice to shout out cheers to his favorites and boo to those who seemingly showed no mercy.

As soon as he walked into the holding area, Much hurried him over to a corner and made him sit facing the wall before opening up his face plate and handing him a mug of water to drink.  He drank it greedily, feeling hot and sweaty and wished he could take off the helmet once more, but it would ruin their plan.

“He’s not here,” Much murmured near him and Robin gave him a quick smile as he knew that Much was referring to Gisborne.  That made it a lot easier for him to then accept the cloth and wipe it over his sweat covered face as much as possible.  Handing the cloth back he peeled off his gauntlets and let Much take care of stuffing the cloth up his forearms to try to get some of the sweat from there, his other hand grabbing a small chunk of meat and cheese and eating it quickly to restore lost energy.

He hadn’t realized how much effort it was to fight in a Tournament and was glad that Much at least had training to be a knight’s squire.  It made him appreciate his trainer all the more when he had fought for his father and Locksley.

“Switch,” Much muttered and he switched his half eaten meat and cheese to his other hand as Much took the cloth out of his left one and shoved it deep into his right one, holding it there for a few seconds.  Robin finished his quick meal and took another drink of water before hearing metal boots clomp over to them and quickly snapped his faceplate shut before standing up and turning around.

His movement made him briefly dizzy as he tried to regain his equilibrium but he focused quickly enough, pushing away the hot heat and bout of dizziness like he had always used to during his time in the Holy Lands and came face to face with none other than Gisborne.

“Sir Gisborne,” Robin managed not to let the vitriol he had always felt for the man slip into his voice and bowed his head slightly.

“You do not take your helmet off when in rest?” Gisborne looked at him confused.

“I’m young, the others here, they won’t believe that a peasant like me could beat any of them,” Robin had come up with the excuse after Marian had posed the question on him while they had been helping Rowan practice.

“And you won’t,” Gisborne’s eyes flashed with mirth, “remember that.  You may be a good little archer, but you can’t even last in combat against me.”

Robin fought the urge to retort that he had fought against Gisborne, more than once, and had given him a good beating.  Instead, he managed through a tight voice, “I’m sure you are the best.  I am only doing this for milady Marian.”

Gisborne snorted silently and turned to walk away before turning around, his expression closed, “Oh, one more thing, Rowan son of Dunn.  If you cast any aspirations on Marian…”  He let the threat hang before walking away, joined a few minutes later by his squire before the two of them headed out of the holding area.

“Bollocks,” Much muttered as Robin turned back around and sat back down, opening his faceplate once more to let whatever air he could onto his face.

“If you cast any aspirations…” Robin mimicked in a high pitched tone, “I wish we were staying longer.”

“Robin, the plan…”

“I know,” he lifted a hand and waved away Much’s concerns, “the plan…  Besides, I can’t even joust properly…”

“I’m sure after you get Locksley back and I get my Bonchurch, maybe you can practice?” Much looked at him curiously and Robin glanced up.

“I’d be in more trouble then.  No one’s going to want to hurt a noble,” he shook his head, “but, maybe Rowan could end up doing it if he wants…”

“I wonder how the others are doing…”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Robin replied picking up a piece of bread and tearing into it as Much took the cloth out of his other forearm and proceeded to wring out the small out of sweat soaked into it before starting to pat him down at the nape of his neck.

                                    *                      *                      *

“How do you think Robin’s doing?” Will asked as he and Allan stood by the entrance to the castle, dressed in the attire of guards once more.  They were the lookouts while the others headed inside to find the gold and carry it out through the garbage chute.  The guards that they had stolen the uniforms from were already in the garbage chute, knocked out, gagged, and tied up so that even if they had awakened, they couldn’t do a single thing and their cries of help would never be heard due to the proximity of the chute to the town of Nottingham.

The tournament also assured that the money slipping from the chutes into the garbage pile would not jingle too much and even if anyone heard it, they would assume it would be a clash of metal on metal as the combatants fought in the arena.

“Knowing him, he’s probably restraining himself from beating everyone else up in the arena,” Allan shrugged, shifting his stance to relieve a cramp that had been forming on his calf.  He hated look out duty sometimes during their raids.  There was usually nothing to do and he always hated standing still for long periods.  At least he supposed that Will was probably having a better time, after all, he wasn’t chained up like a peasant when Little John’s son and Luke the Cooper had been captured.

Will laughed a bit at his statement and Allan grinned.  “What, it’s true.”

“I know,” Will crinkled his brow, “I just have this mental image of Robin standing on top of a heap of men, the sun shining behind him and him declaring that he is Robin Hood.”

“You’ve got a weird imagination,” Allan shook his head before he suddenly straightened as he saw someone approaching them.

It was a hooded figure and before the figure reached them Allan mustered all the authority he could in his voice.  “Sorry, but the castle is off limits today.  Tournament and all…”

“Allan,” the figure hissed and he recognized the voice as Anna looked up at them, drawing her hood back slightly.  “It’s me!”

“What are you doing here?  Aren’t you and Lydia supposed to look out for the other bags of money swinging outside?” Allan was confused.  Had something happened to make Anna abandon her post?

“The Sheriff’s not in the noble’s section,” Anna said quickly.

“So, he’s probably talking to Gisborne or something,” Allan shrugged.

“No,” she hissed back quietly, “I saw Gisborne; he’s out of his armor and was going to the noble’s box.  I think the Sheriff and him are trading places!”

“Why?” Will looked equally confused and Allan knew that as far as they knew, they had never seen the Sheriff fight, or even when he did, it wasn’t that well.  Why would the Sheriff trade places with Gisborne?  Did the man figure out their plan?  Did Dennis tell the Sheriff that Marian was really sponsoring Robin instead of Rowan?  But that didn’t make sense.  Robin had significantly altered that part of the plan after Dennis had betrayed them.

“I don’t know, but I know this is an opportunity!” Anna however, looked excited.

“A what?” now Allan was even more confused.

“Your brother?!” she looked at him as if he were stupid, “the Sheriff?  Take your revenge?”

“But Robin doesn’t-“

“The Sheriff killed Tom!” Anna looked at him, “you still want Robin to say not to kill the Sheriff?  This is your chance!  Kill him in the tournament, and it can be an accidental death.  No one would blame you.  People have died in tournaments past.”

“Yeah, but I’m supposed to-“

“Lydia can handle your position here,” Anna shook her head, “I’ll get her to come here after we go to the holding area!”

“But I don’t even have an armor or sponsor.  I can’t just walk in there and kill the Sheriff!” Allan could see that her plan had some merit.  After all, if he got rid of the Sheriff in an accidental death, it meant that they could all go back to their former lives.  Anna would be able to return to Rochdale and perhaps get him a pardon.  He could finally return home…instead of wandering around forever as a thief and con artist…  But it was risky…

“It’s okay.  I talked to one of the nobles, Buckingham, and told him of our plan.  He says you can take the place of his man after he’s won his first round.  He’s got a green-white motif and since no one can tell who you are underneath your armor, they won’t be able to tell it’s you.  When you’re fighting the Sheriff, I’ll let the others know of the plan and we’ll get you out, all right?”

“You sure?” he still felt like everything was moving too fast, but then again, he knew from experience that opportunity moved really quickly.  Grimacing slightly he looked at Will.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.  I mean, what if something happens to the others…”

“Lydia’s a capable girl, Will,” Anna shook her head, “come on, we don’t have time to waste!”

“Allan…” Will looked uneasy.

“Listen, if you’re so worried about it, you can tie Lydia up to one of the stockades and pretend you are-“

“No!  No way!” Allan noticed the horrified look on Will’s face and knew that his friend would never put another member of their gang through something like that, especially not a woman.

“This is an opportunity,” Anna was beginning to look harried and worried and Allan knew he had to do something.

 “All right, I’ll come,” Allan agreed before grabbing Anna’s hand and the two of them headed towards the holding area of the arena.  He shot Will what he hoped was an apologetic look before disappearing around the corner, little Lydia passing by them, already dressed in one of the uniforms of a guard she had ambushed earlier.  He hoped he was doing the right thing.

                                                *                      *                      *

Robin didn’t know how much time had passed, but to him, it felt a little too short until he heard Rowan’s name being announced and the crowd roar with approval.  He glanced up at Much and shut his faceplate shut and stood up, shaking his limbs a bit to get them loose for his next battle.

“Good luck,” Much murmured quietly before he left his little corner of solitude and headed back out into the arena.  Once again the roaring deafening sound of cheers rattled his helmet and he lifted an armored hand to acknowledge the cheers.  Looking amongst the nobles, he saw Marian still sitting next to her father, but she was looking worriedly towards her left and he tracked her gaze until he noticed that the Sheriff was missing.

A pit of worry formed in Robin’s stomach.  Did the Sheriff find out their plan and was currently chasing his men around the castle?  He glanced quickly at the guards assembled.  There didn’t seem to be any thinning amongst their ranks…were his men safe?  They should have had ample time to get the treasure out by now and as soon as he had lost, Allan would fire arrows into the very visible nags of gold that hung around the noble’s section of the arena.

Much had told him while he had been resting that he had spotted the strip of green-white cloth that belonged to the man that was going to “defeat” Rowan in combat and thus allow him to bow out and make his escape with his men before the jousting part of the tournament occurred.  When his former manservant had tried to point out the man, they couldn’t spot him in the holding area and Robin had suggested that perhaps the man had left to talk with his sponsor, to whom he had found out was Buckingham.

There wasn’t a solid plan, but Robin supposed he could just hopefully signal or at least let Buckingham’s man get an opening and mock-wound him so when Rowan presented himself in front of the other nobles, then he would have the perfect excuse not to joust.  He turned slightly as he looked around the arena, up and around the cheerful screaming faces of the peasants who had loved the show so far as the afternoon slowly waned.  This is what Nottinghamshire needed…this vibrancy, a return to what things were before endless taxation had drained the shire of its liquid life.

He wondered if the Sheriff or his goons noticed that the crowd was happier with cheap food, entertainment, even a sense of normalcy.  No, the Sheriff probably saw it as an opportunity to make sure that the peasants were going to pay for this later on in the year when crops were going to be harvested.  He shook his head minutely; he wished his King would return soon.  Corruption was so rampant that even his own men that he had sent back from the Holy Lands; men like James were siding with his younger sibling, Prince John.

And God only knew what the French were plotting behind English backs.  Robin knew that his only hope at keeping the peace was that his King’s mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine would be able to keep her vast influence in French territory under control.  However, there was no one to stop Prince John from raising his own army and storming across the waters that separated the two united nations and declaring that the French presence was at an end.

But to even write a letter begging his King to put an end to the hostilities of his territories was a moot point.  When he and Much had served in the King’s Private Guard, he had only knew a little of the French tongue, but had managed to learn the language quickly in order to converse with the others in the Guard and with Richard himself, as he liked using his native language better than English when giving battle orders.

It was Robin who relayed and occasionally made improvements to the King’s order, partially to boost his own status within the Guard, but also to make sure his King was well protected when it came time for battle.  He had never told Richard this, but he knew his King had occasionally suspected it, however, he did not say a thing.  With him back in England, he figured that Tomas, his former second-in-command was now in charge of translating and relaying orders from the King and hoped that soon Saladin would make peace.

“Gilbert of Bortone,” the crier shouted and the crowd cheered again.  Robin turned and faced the entrance of the holding area as a few seconds later, he saw an armored figure, completely covered from head to toe in a dull silver armor, but also covered in chain mail come out.  His eyes immediately noted the green-white strip of innocent cloth hanging from the man’s shoulder and he realized that this was Buckingham’s man; the man to whom he was going to “lose” to.

None of the competitors knew who their next opponent was, in order to keep the crowd occupied and to keep the tournament fair, but Robin had a feeling that the Sheriff ultimately would have Gisborne come out as the winner.

Robin drew out his long sword and twisted it once in his right hand, shifting his shield on his left.  He knew he was going to lose this round, but he also wanted to at least make a show of it before he lost.  After all, going down in one-blow wasn’t his style.  Lifting his hand and charged forward and brought down his blade in an overhead blow.

The clang of metal on metal vibrated his hand as Gilbert blocked his blow and broke the stalemate by swinging his sword around towards his face.  Robin ducked underneath the swing and thrust forward before shifting his feet and smashing his shield onto the man’s chest.

The loud clang reverberated in his helmet before he backed off and flourished his blade once before advancing again.  He made two cuts, one left, one right before spinning around and smiled as he felt the flat of his blade connect with the man’s side, sending him sprawling to the ground.

“Point to Rowan!”

Robin backed up again as Gilbert got to his feet and charged at him, swinging wildly.  He blocked the blows, wondering what the man was doing with such showy, and flashy moves, inefficient ones at that before just as suddenly the man swung at his head and he ducked again only to be met with a face full of Gilbert’s shield and he saw stars as the blow rattled across his face.

He spun half to the ground before he felt a solid blow connect to his back and grimaced.

“Point to Gilbert!”

Heaving himself to his feet, he turned around and brought up his shield just in time to block and overhead blow from the man.  Shock filled him as he saw that Gilbert didn’t even wait for him to get up like most in the combat arena and he narrowed his eyes.  Maybe Buckingham thought that the fastest way to get rid of him from the competition, deal or not, was to tell his man to ignore the rules of the arena and go at it.  If that was true, he was going to have no part of it.

He fended off the blows one by one, all the while backing up, watching his opponent carefully.  He could see little openings Gilbert left for him and wanted to strike at the man, but forced himself not to.  Rowan was not experienced, he reminded himself, he only had basic rudimentary training.  He couldn’t easily beat an opponent like the knight of Buckingham.  Tightening his grip on the hilt of his blade, he finally felt himself back into one of the arena’s circular walls and the roar of the crowd above him nearly deafened his hearing but he saw a flash of silver and raised his shield upwards to block the incoming blade.

He could feel his armor shift and could feel the hot summer wind and some dust from the arena grounds biting into his exposed left side as he lifted his shield and hoped that the man’s visor limited his vision so he could not see such a weakness.

“Come on…give up,” Gilbert suddenly hissed at him and Robin frowned.  That voice was oddly familiar…

However, he didn’t answer and instead, swung down on with his sword arm and his frown turned into a grin as he caught the man soundly on the left shoulder.

“Point to Rowan!”

“Gotcha,” Robin whispered before he made to release the man from their blocks and lifted his sword slightly when just as suddenly he saw a flash of a small silver across his vision, plunging downwards-

White-hot pain exploded from Robin’s exposed left side as he cried out involuntarily and sagged downward into the dirt, his left leg buckling underneath him.  He glanced up, aghast, and saw Buckingham’s man step back, and twirled his sword once before holding out before him, stance at the ready.

“Not so tough now are you, Sheriff?!” the man shouted to him over the din of the raucous crowd and Robin stared.  The man thought he was the Sheriff?!  What the hell was going on?

However, he couldn’t dwell on that fact as he glanced down to his left and through whatever vision he had he could just barely see the hilt of a dagger stuck near his left hip.  Robin grimaced and winced as he tried to stand up, his left leg unable to support his current weight and gasped out as he tried to pry the dagger loose, but instead, his armored hand knocked into it slightly, causing ripples of agony to tear up and down his body.

Robin knew it was a gamble, but he hoped that the crowd would hopefully be smart enough not to shout his name.  He glanced up and saw the man still standing there, twirling his sword a couple of times and knew that he had backed into the wall underneath the noble’s seats.  It was his only hope…

He flicked open his face plate and looked down at the dagger embedded in his flesh.  It had an ornate hilt on it and he thought he had recognized the design of it.  He knew he had seen the dagger somewhere…

“Come on!  Get up Sheriff!” Gilbert’s familiar voice was almost swallowed up as he plunged his sword into the ground and tentatively reached around to pull the dagger out.  He didn’t know how long the blade was, but he knew it was deep.  Djaq would have her hands full trying to keep him from bleeding he realized.  He could leave the dagger in, but in order for them to still pull this off, he needed the dagger out or else Rowan’s cover would be blown and the young man who had done so much for them would be thrown in the dungeons by the Sheriff.

“Come on you coward!” he heard the man take a couple of steps forward, still flourishing his blade and Robin turned his head sideways and glared at the man.

“I forfeit,” he said and watched as the man suddenly pause, mid-swing before he dropped his sword and shield and wondered what did he do or say to make the man do such a thing.

Gilbert suddenly backpedaled a few steps before raising his hands to his face and clawed at the catches of his faceplate.  Robin was confused until the man suddenly abandoned clawing at his faceplate and instead lifted his whole helmet off and Robin felt his jaw drop a few centimeters in pure shock.  Gilbert was not Gilbert…Gilbert was…

“Allan?!”

                                    *                      *                      *

“Allan?!”

Allan saw Robin mouth his name in shock, but the shock he had felt was greater when he saw the man that Anna had pointed out having an innocent maroon-grey strip on him as the Sheriff, was none other than Robin.  He had originally thought that the Sheriff’s colors were yellow-black, but Anna had said that they were the colors of the Gisborne family lands and said that when Prince John had sent his men to kill her family in Rochdale, she had seen some of the maroon-grey colors that belonged to the Sheriff.

But this…he wasn’t…

It was Robin who was wearing the armor; it was Robin that he was fighting.  Did Anna make a mistake?  Was it someone else’s colors that the Sheriff was wearing?  He had heard Rowan’s name called out before he had been called out as Gilbert, but Anna had told him that Rowan, or Robin as he was in the guise of Rowan, had bowed out early in the first round and the Sheriff had just conveniently used Rowan’s name to keep the peasantries like for him going.

“Robin-“ he made a move to go forward when the crowd went mostly silent as a single pair of hands clapping came from the nobles’ seat above and he looked up to see none other than the Sheriff himself standing by the edge, glancing down at him.

“Bravo, boy, bra-vo,” the Sheriff smiled wistfully at him and he saw Robin turn his head slightly to look up, “now finish the job.”  He made a small gesture with his hands as if to urge him on.

“No!” Allan looked at the Sheriff, appalled.

“Ah,” the Sheriff gave him a congenial smile, but it was full of teeth, “I don’t believe you heard me.  I wasn’t asking, I was ordering.”

“No way!” Allan crossed his arms as best as he could in the armor he was wearing, something he hadn’t felt the weight of in a very long time, and glared at the Sheriff.  He could see the guards shift in their positions around them, but was at least somewhat confident enough that they weren’t going to shoot them any time, not with this many civilians-  Oh wait, this was the Sheriff they were talking about after all.  He picked up his sword and shield once more and held them aloft, looking worried.

The Sheriff sighed noisily and shook his head before gesturing for someone to come out.  Allan nearly dropped his sword and shield once more as he saw Gisborne step out from the shadows, dragging Anna along, a knife to her throat.  Her hair was askew and she looked angry.

“No,” he breathed out quietly, horror filling him.

“Let me go!” Anna struggled, but he could see that she was looking fearfully down at the knife by her throat and her struggles were very minimal.

“Ah,” the Sheriff’s loud proclamation brought his gaze back to the man and he tightened his grip on his sword, “I see that you know her.  So, let me tell you this, kill Hood now, or else your lady friend gets it.”

“So help me-“

“Blah-di-blah-di-da,” the Sheriff chucked nastily before waving a hand towards Anna and behind her Marian and her father, “Hood you are in no position to make any demands.  In fact, I believe this makes Marian and her father your accomplices, aren’t they?  And that child…Rowan I believe, is also an accomplice.  Ooh, goody.”

He turned slightly, “Gisborne, when we’re done here, I want Marian and her father thrown in the dungeons and make sure we have a rope ready for that impudent boy, Rowan.  This is a great tournament today…we’ll even see someone swing!”

“Milord?!” Allan noticed that Gisborne looked shocked before glancing quickly behind Marian who was shaking her head in denial.  “Marian, is this-“

“I did not know that Hood knocked out my knight, Sheriff,” Marian stood up, “he is an imposter!”

“Really,” the Sheriff didn’t look an inch convinced.

“Please, let me return to my coach and make sure that my knight has not been wounded-“

“A clue, no,” the Sheriff held up a finger in warning to stop Marian from escaping the box, “my men should be able to find your wayward knight.  And we’ll see if he’s telling the truth.”  He turned back around and stared down at Allan, “Meanwhile, you there, kill Hood.  Or I kill your little pretty lady.”

“Allan…” Allan flicked his gaze to Robin and bit his lip.  He honestly did not know that Robin was under the armor.  Robin had forbidden any of them to know what Marian’s colors were and had them focus on getting the money out.  He had said that it was inconsequential that they knew about it since they weren’t going to stay the whole tournament.

Anna must have gotten wrong information to him…and now he had put her life in jeopardy, like his own brother’s.

“I’m sorry,” he heard his own voice crack, “I didn’t know…”

“It’s all right Allan,” Robin looked pale, sweat dripping off of his brow, the dagger he had borrowed from Anna still plunged into his side.  He reached out a hand to him and Allan suddenly felt himself backing away slightly, torn.  His eyes flickered back and forth between Anna and Robin.  Conflicting emotions ran throughout him as he wavered on the edges of despair and on hope.  “We’re going to-“

“I don’t want to lose her!” the words tore from his throat as he glanced back up at the Sheriff and Gisborne and saw that Anna now had a cut bleeding from her throat.  The Sheriff was serious about killing Anna and no one knew the extent of who she really meant to him.  They all thought that she was just part of the gang, a friend from Rochdale…no one knew…

When he had been exiled from Rochdale, he had sought to bury all of his feelings for Anna deep within him, vowing to never think about her again, vowing that she was now dead in his mind and heart.  But after seeing her in Treeton three days ago…alive, healthy, radiant looking.  The feelings he had thought were long dead for so long had burst open in him.  He had vowed to bury them again, to distance himself from her to treat her like a friend and potential recruit as she learned from Robin.

But she had promised him a home without prejudice.  That the rest of her family was dead and they would be free to love one another without anyone judging them.  That they would be able to make it work this time, with no interference, no side looks from his jealous brother, Tom…

“Allan, we’re not going to let her die…“

He loved her, so much…too much.  He couldn’t bear to lose her after he saw her again.  He thought he would never see her again…  He owed Robin his life, twice over.  But…Robin could have at least tried to save Tom, couldn’t he?  What could Robin do now that he was injured?  The guards here were numerous; everyone else was long gone with the loot.  There was no back up; no one to save them…no one would be able to free Anna.  Marian would-  She would cry, she would be devastated.  No, he couldn’t think of her in those terms.  For Anna, _he_ would cry, _he_ would be devastated.  Marian was safe because she was a noble…Anna would not be safe because she was no more a noble than Robin was…she was an outlaw.  Anna would die…

“I have a plan…”

He wanted to laugh out loud, an insane kind of laugh as he found himself in such a conundrum.  Here he was, in such a sad sorry state of affairs.  And all Robin could say was that he had a plan.  A bitter bark of laughter did escape his lips just then as Allan came to a decision and tightened his grip on his sword.  He looked up and found Robin’s eyes…

He loved Anna too much…and he wouldn’t lose her again.  This time, he would save her before it was too late.

“I’m sorry Robin, forgive me,” he said and he truly was, because he finally made his choice.

Allan-a-Dale attacked.

                                    *                      *                      *

“I’m sorry Robin, forgive me.”

Those words and the eyes that he saw when he said them, Robin instantly knew that he had lost one of the best men of his gang.  He wasn’t too surprised afterwards to see Allan charging at him with a beastly yell, sword swinging downwards.  However, his surprise came afterwards as he raised his own weapon in and effort to defend himself and fell down to one knee again, jarring his wound and the dagger still embedded in it from the force of the blow.

Robin immediately abandoned his shield and brought his left hand about to help his right to counter the raw brute strength Allan had put into his blow.  He didn’t know the man was this strong!  He heard the shocked cries of the crowd in the arena, but didn’t care as he gritted his teeth and heaved with all of his strength and threw Allan off balance, forcing him to back away and catch his feet.

Robin took the opportunity and grabbed hold of the dagger still embedded in his side and pulled the blade out, hissing slightly before tossing it to the side.  His fingers came away bloody, but at least the pain lessened somewhat.  Dizziness struck him as he felt some of his blood pouring out, but he steadfastly ignored it and instead, lifted his helmet off of his head so he didn’t have his vision obscured anymore.

The helmet was still in his hand as Allan came charging back and Robin blocked the man’s first blow awkwardly, letting the blade slip down the side of the helmet and strike his shoulder before lunging forward and shoving the helmet into Allan’s face, startling him to back up.

He then brought his arm around and swung the helmet like he would a sword and it clanged off of the side of Allan’s plated arm.

“Don’t do this Allan!” Robin warned as he tossed the helmet away and tightened his grip on his sword.  His left hand reached for his short sword and he drew it out, holding both blades in front of him, his eyes flashing a warning as he saw Allan twirling his blade once before advancing upon him, the man’s face a stricken expression, but his eyes were surprisingly blank.

In all of the months that Robin had known the rogue, he had never seen such blank eyes.  Allan’s eyes were always full of mirth, plotting their next escapade against the Sheriff or even pulling relatively harmless pranks on his fellow outlaws.  This was a side of Allan Robin had never known and he realized that he truly did not know Allan.  Hell even his posture in holding his sword and shield, and the way he wore the armor of Buckingham screamed that Allan was formerly a knight.  He _knew_ how to fight in the combat arena, knew how to fight probably even outside the combat arena.

Who was this man standing in front of him wearing Allan-a-Dale’s face?

They skirted each other in an impromptu circle.  Robin knew he had to escape fast.  His only hope was that Much was wise enough to run from the holding area when he had heard the Sheriff’s voice.  Maybe he was smart enough to perhaps go back to the coach and tent where Rowan was and punch the boy a couple of times before making his escape.  However, he didn’t hold too much faith in his former manservant as he knew that Much would sooner try to rescue him than to go off on his own.

But first things first…

Robin lunged forward, swinging his longer sword down in an arc and watched as Allan countered the blow with his own sword before he shifted forward, trying to reach with his shorter one to disarm him, but was countered by Allan’s shield before he spun and brought his own sword about.

Robin clashed his blow with an ‘x’ with his swords before suddenly kicking up a face full of dirt into Allan’s face, making the man choke slightly, before he brought both swords upwards, breaking the stalemate.  His wound protested his movement and he winced slightly, leaning towards his left when suddenly he ducked, the blade of Allan’s sword flying through where his chest used to be.

He narrowed his eyes and pivoted on a foot, tangling his legs around Allan’s and dumping him to the ground.  However, Robin wasted no time and advanced forward, but Allan rolled to his feet in a clanging of armor and held his weapon aloft, his shield still sitting on the ground.  He charged at him and rained a flurry of blows down upon him, but Robin was too experienced to let such a show of force overwhelm him and instead kept his gaze focused as he deflected each blow with his own two blades.  He finally saw and opening and reached for it, dropping his long sword and instead kept his sharper short sword in hand as he elbowed Allan fiercely in the throat, choking the air out of him and making him drop to his knees.

Robin quickly kicked his sword arm, making him drop his weapon before pointing his own blade at Allan’s throat.

“Robin…” Allan’s voice was raspy as he held himself still under his blade and Robin glared at him.  How could Allan do this to him?  Betray him in such a way.  How could Allan not know that he would try to save Anna?  That he would try to save everyone that was important to his gang?  That he had realized Allan had lied to him when he had said that Anna was like a sister to him?  She was more than a sister…he had seen the love Allan had for Anna when he had overheard their conversation in the woods last night after he had left to check over the plan with the others.

But what love had blinded Allan to had not blinded him.  He knew where that dagger came from.  It was the same one Dennis had used when he attacked him and Anna a few days ago.  Anna had been working with the Sheriff all along…and Dennis was just one of the plots within plots.  Probably working for both the Sheriff and Anna to throw off whatever trail he had so that they were confused, off balanced, all thinking that it was Prince John instead of the Sheriff.

How much did Anna say was a lie?  How much of it was true?  Did the Rushcliffe family in Rochdale really die under Prince John’s hand?

“How could you…” he shook his head sadly.

Allan didn’t say anything and his gaze slid to the ground.  “Kill me now…but please, swear to me that you’ll save Anna…”

Robin looked at his former man sadly; Allan still could not see it.  He loved her too much to see that she had been manipulating him.  He still believed that she was true and loyal, and he still loved her.  He moved his blade just so slightly and nicked the rope with his tag off of his neck.  The wooden tab landed on the ground with barely a sound, but Allan flinched as if he had been struck.

“I should have done what you should have done in the beginning,” he shook his head and lifted his blade.

He saw Allan close his eyes, preparing for the worst when Robin looked up towards the box and saw the Sheriff’s eyes alight with glee and even Gisborne looked surprise.  Anna however…tears were streaming down her face and she met his stare with absolute imperiousness.  However behind her, near Marian…

Robin did not allow himself the luxury of a smile but instead, turned his whole body and threw his short sword towards the nobles’ stand.  His blade flew through air, singing its metallic song before it hit its mark with a dull of chink and the air suddenly filled with coins as the second bag of loot exploded with the force of his blade hitting it.

The shouts of the peasantry and nobles who were surprised to see money falling everywhere made it into a mob-like scene as they leapt from the stands and thundered around the arena, trying to collect the free showering money.  He heard the Sheriff’s shout of surprise before the little man tried to contain the crowd yelling about how they should not take the money…

Robin finally allowed himself a grin as the crowd surrounded him and he saw Lydia, Anna’s trusted servant come to her master’s aid by suddenly ripping her away from Gisborne’s loosened grasp and the two of them disappearing into the back of the stands.  He barely saw Marian and her father being hastily escorted out by the Sheriff’s guards and turned to see where Allan was, but he had disappeared amongst the crowd.

“Robin!” Much’s plaintive cry made him glance to his left to see his friend waving a desperate hand in the crowd near the holding area and he pushed his way past the still gleeful crowd of peasants, all still grabbing money on the ground until he reached Much’s side.

“Rowan?” he asked, as another wave of dizziness hit him, and he grabbed onto Much’s shoulder to steady himself.

“Master are you-“

“What about Rowan?” he demanded, forcing himself to push away the dizziness and stare at Much with hard eyes.

“He was attacked, don’t know by who, but the guards found him unconscious,” Much shook his head, “I was worried so I checked on him when you were fighting and only got back now….Master you’re wounded!”

“It’s nothing, let’s go,” Robin shook his head as Much tried to fuss over his wound.  “Go!” he gave Much a non too friendly shove and they took off, running towards where the coaches were kept.  Robin held a hand to his left side to act as a compress as the pieces of his armor rattled around him and felt the sticky oozing of blood on his palm and fingers.  The wound must have been deep.

“Guards!” Much shouted next to him as they skidded a corner, nearly running into a bunch of guards before turning around and running in another direction.  Behind them, Robin heard the guards shouting to catch up to them and they arrived in the coaches area.

Robin immediately grabbed one of the horses tied up to a side and was a bit glad that Rowan had the forethought to bridle and saddle all of them before tying them up to their post and leaving them with some hay and water.  The boy was bright…  He quickly mounted one of them and sent a silent apology to Marian for having to steal their horses before he and Much rode out of the area just as the guards arrived.

“After them!” their unit leader shouted and Robin looked behind him, to see them hurrying forward, swords drawn.  He grinned and turned back around; ignoring the jarring pain of his wound each time the horse’s feet hit the ground, and continued on.

Due to the relative lack of guards in the front gate because of the tournament, he and Much were able to ride out of Nottingham without too much trouble and the two of them made a beeline towards Sherwood Forest.

Once in the forest, Robin rode towards the camp, but made a few twists and turns along the main road before stopping abruptly on a side road and slowed the horses down.  He finally pulled his mount to a halt and dismounted, landing gingerly with most of his weight on his right side.

“Robin!” Much called out as he also pulled to a halt and dismounted before running towards him and began to help him out of his armor.

“Easy,” Robin cautioned Much as he gingerly took off the main chest and back plate of his armor and dropped it to the ground and Robin turned to stare at his wound, finally getting a good look at it.  The blood had mostly stopped flowing, but it was still oozing an ugly dark red and he gingerly touched it.

“That looks bad,” his former manservant commented as he ripped apart a part of his sleeve and made a makeshift patch and Robin took the patch and pressed it against his wound, dismayed that he could feel the blood already soaking through the dark material.  Another couple of rips of fabric before Much wrapped his arms around his waist and dragged a couple of tied strips of cloth through and wrapped it around a couple of times before tightening it tight.  Robin bit his lip at the sharp pain before Much stood up and helped him take off the rest of his armor.

They worked in quiet, quick silence, a routine that felt long forgotten but their hands and actions said otherwise.  It was the same routine they had adopted during lulls in battles in the Holy Lands.  Much would help Robin out of his armor, taking it to polish and clean the blood off of it while he would rest himself for a few minutes before going to the King's tent to see to his needs or for a strategy meeting with his other lieutenants.

“Put it on the horses, and send them off, we don't want the Sheriff finding our tracks here,” he said in a quiet tone as he finished shucking off the collar brace around his neck and handed it over to Much who nodded mutely before doing what he asked.  While Much was doing that, Robin stared at the ground, his thoughts a swirl of confusion, loss, and despair.  He was glad Much did not bring up anything in regards to Allan at the moment.  He needed to think...needed to plan, needed to figure out why Allan had betrayed him so badly enough to kill him on the Sheriff's simple orders.

The Allan he knew would never do such a thing and would’ve died first before even harming him.  This Allan...he realized, he didn't know.  This was the Allan he thought he had known and had not – the Allan that had fought like a seasoned veteran of the combat arena.  Not necessarily combat itself as he was pretty sure that Allan was not in the Holy Lands, but knew that Allan had some proficiency in swordplay.  He was trained...  He had a sneaking suspicion who had trained him as a knight…and who had ultimately plotted to turn Allan.

“Master?” Much's unusually quiet voice startled him out of his thoughts and he took one quick look at Much before heading off, walking quickly through the forest, ignoring the fiery pain on his left side.  He didn't know how much Much had seen or heard of his fight against Allan, but he knew that Much probably saw him in the crowd or at least would figure it out when they returned to camp.

He wasn't looking forward to all of the questions that awaited him back at their camp.

                                    *                      *                      *

Robin and Much arrived at their camp just as the sun was dipping into the upper parts of the trees, creating long spindly shadows that seemed to reach out and grab the tents and some of the logs around their camp fire.  The rest of the gang and Anna's men were there.  Only Anna herself, little Lydia, and Allan were missing and Robin felt an uncharacteristic wave of anger as he saw Anna's men laughing with his own.

He quickened his steps and marched towards the two of them, grabbing the nearest one, Aaron by his shirt front.  He ignored the protests from the rest of his gang and noted out of the corner of his eyes Walter's abortive movement towards him held in check by Little John.  He glared icily at the man, “Did Anna sent you to betray us to the Sheriff?!”

“No!” Aaron looked scared and he shook him slightly.

“Did she?” he demanded, tightening his grip as Aaron tried to shake his head, choking slightly as his hands reached to pry his own from his shirt front, but Robin would have none of that.

“Robin, you're wounded!” Djaq's quiet gasp halted everyone else from protesting his treatment of Aaron.

“The Sheriff?  But-”

“Where's Allan?”

“And Anna, and Lydia,” the last comment was from Walter and Robin turned his gaze to the man still held in check by Little John's great wooden staff.

“What do you know about Anna and her deal with the Sheriff?” he asked, finally letting Aaron go who collapsed into a heap on the ground, gasping and massaging his neck.  No one moved to help him.

“Nothing, I swear!” Walter said hastily as Little John pulled against his staff, choking Walter against it.  “I swear!  We don't know anything!  Anna told us that she had a plan to get some gold so we can give it back to the people in Rochdale!  She said that you would be able to help us with it so we went along with her.  We didn't know about Dennis, and we didn't know what Anna had planned!”

“What you've just said says you did know something was being planned by her, what is it?” Robin took a step forward and Walter winced against the pressure on his throat by John's staff.

“All we knew was that Anna told us of a safe house in Nottingham she had prepared,” the man grabbed hold of the staff and tried to loosen the grip as his face began to turn a slight red from lack of air.

“Robin-”

He waved off Djaq's worried warning and gave a look to Little John who shrugged and let go some of the pressure he was exerting on the man.  “What safe house?”

“It's on Pine Street, fourth house down on your right.  We were told to meet there if anything went wrong with the plan.  What happened?  Where Anna and little Lydia?  Are they still back in Nottingham town?” Walter still couldn't exactly move or breathe very well with the staff across his throat but Robin knelt down slightly and stared at the man carefully looking for any signs of deceit.

“L-Listen, if they're still there, we need to rescue-”

“Your leader betrayed us,” Robin said in a simple, but clear tone, making sure that everyone in the camp heard him, “she was working for the Sheriff all along.  So was Dennis.  His dagger was stabbed into me during the tournament.  It was carefully planned and executed.  And now, Marian and her father may be in more danger than we had ever known.  All because of your leader.  Tell me, Prince John didn't really kill her family, did they?”

“I...don't know.  We joined up with her after our leader died under mysterious circumstances,” Walter looked scared, then puzzled, “maybe she murdered him to gain our trust?”  He looked beyond Robin and he turned his head to see Aaron sitting up, a frown on his face as he still occasionally massaged his neck.

“We did see Rochdale Manor on fire a few days before Anna brought us into her group...but that was about it,” Aaron shrugged, “how do we know you didn't leave her behind?”

“Robin would never-”

Robin shot a look to Much to shut him up and held up a hand to ward off defensive answers from the others about his leadership skills, “Before I recognized Dennis' dagger, I had thought Anna and the rest of you had been captured by the Sheriff's men.  It was only after I recognized the dagger that I realized she had set up a very elaborate trap.  Plots within plots so to speak.”

He looked at Little John and gestured for him to stop holding Walter hostage and the big man looked at him for a long second before releasing the man who fell to his knees coughing before pulling himself upright.

“This I do not like,” Little John muttered before moving away.

“Robin,” Will's hesitant voice made him look at the young carpenter, “Anna approached me and Allan while we were on lookout.  I protested, but Allan decided to go with her.  She said something about taking this opportunity to kill the Sheriff.  I really thought-  Do you think...?”  The young man looked torn at the possibility and implication that Allan had been caught up in the whole mess.  Everyone at the camp fell silent at his words and Robin closed his eyes briefly, massaging his brow.

When he opened them again, he looked at the others, noting that they were all staring at him, hoping what he was going to say wasn't true.  “Allan betrayed me,” he said quietly, “I want to believe that Anna manipulated him into betraying me, betraying all of us, but...”

“Robin you don't...”

Robin looked at Djaq carefully as she trailed off, hugging herself, unsure of her own words.  She wanted to believe the good in everyone, that there were some things that couldn't be done.  She had seen betrayal first hand when she was sold into slavery and even her own people had abandoned her after they had rescued her from the bowels of Treeton Mine.  He realized that she had considered everyone in the gang her family and couldn't bear the thought of one of her “family” betraying them.

Turning his gaze, he saw Will looking a cross between forlorn and angry.  The plan had called for Will and Allan to be lookouts while the rest of them had gone in and extracted the gold.  The two had been a great pair in watching each other's backs.  Robin knew Will looked up to Allan and saw him as a brother of sorts, or even a best friend.  They teased each other and Robin knew that Allan had begun to teach Will some of the tricks of his trade and Will had been doing the same to Allan.  For him to say that Allan had betrayed all of them had torn Will up inside.

Little John, curiously enough, had the most neutral expression on his face out of everyone in his gang.  He's expression brook no judgment upon anyone and instead, he accepted it as it was.  That was the simple life of a man who had once lead his own woodsmen and had probably seen one too many betrayals.

Much was Much, Robin knew he didn't have to look at his friend to know that he was wearing a furious expression and was probably trying to pull his own hair out once more.  He was always expressive, whether wandering around frustrated or kicking rocks, logs, and dirt over when things went south.

However...

“We're still going to save them,” the words came unbidden from his mouth and he realized it was what he really wanted to do.  He had tried not to think about seeing Allan, face stricken as he realized he had stabbed him back in the arena; the realization that the Sheriff was going to kill Anna if he didn't do what he was ordered to do; the resignation to a fate probably worst than death by raising his blade up to Robin.  Throughout all of that Robin noticed one thing that he had recognized within himself.

Allan betrayed him because he loved Anna too much to see her die.

“What?” the collective gasp from everyone, Walter and Aaron included, made a slightly involuntary grim smile form on his face.

“But Robin-”

“No matter what, Allan is still a part of our gang.  He will pay for his actions, make no mistake about that, but I will not leave him in the Sheriff's hands,” he said in a firm tone.  He did not mention that he did not want the Sheriff or Gisborne finding out anymore than they could know about his men.  He turned to Walter and Aaron, “Anna is your leader.  Do as you see fit.”

“Understood,” the two men replied grimly.  He did not know what fate had in store for Anna or Lydia, but it was the way of outlaws, the first rule he had learned from Little John.  He knew that no matter how hard he tried to make the outlaws of this region more civilized instead of barbaric thieves and murderers, there were some unspoken rules that couldn't be broken.

“Now,” he turned to Much, “are you sure you said Rowan was unconscious when you found him?”

“Yes,” Much nodded, “he looked like he had been attacked-”

“Probably by Dennis,” Robin mused mostly to himself before pointing to Will and to Much, “I need the two of you to go to back to Nottingham and make sure Marian, Edward, and Rowan are fine.  If not, we'll need two rescue plans to get them to safety and probably out of Nottinghamshire.  Report back in a couple of hours with any news.”

Will nodded and hefted one of his small axes on his belt before heading off.  Much, however, looked at him, worried.

“Robin, your wound...”

“I will be fine, go.  I need to know Marian's safe,” he emphasized her name and Much finally nodded before scrambling off to join Will.

That left Little John, Djaq, and Anna's two men.  He turned to Little John to issue more orders when Djaq stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on his.  “Robin, I need to treat that right now,” she pressed none too gently on his blood soaked cloth and he grimaced.

“But the gold-”

“We've stored it safely.  Trust us Robin,” Djaq smiled a bit before leading him to one of the logs and forced him to sit down.

As soon as he had sat down, Robin suddenly felt very dizzy and realized he had been pushing the dizziness of blood loss from his mind since he had stepped into the camp.  With things now organized and somewhat resolved, he did not have to worry about anything else except for his wound.  And it reminded him of it by returning the pain full force to his brain.  His whole world spun a bit and he blinked owlishly as he reached out and grabbed the nearest steady object, which was the log he was sitting on.  He suddenly did not feel too well...

His world suddenly tilted sideways and just before darkness claimed him, he thought he heard Djaq shout his name.  Then everything became black.

                                    *                      *                      *

**Author’s Notes:**

            See Part 4 for the Q&A.  I wrote this and Part 4 at the same time, having to pull another splitter like _The Assassin’s Gift_ as I realized I had so much more to write and enough to chop everything in half.


	4. Part 4: Loyalty

Robin Hood: Tournament

By: Shadow Chaser

 

**Author’s Notes:**

Robin Hood and all of its characters do not belong to me.  This story is written for fandom and not for profit.  This story takes place roughly at the end of June around the summer solstice.  A general note is that I graduated college with a minor in History (could have almost double majored except for a few more credits) and have a pretty good knowledge of the Crusades along with European, American, and Asiatic history.

However, this does not mean I know much about nobility titles within England – that is one of my weak spots.  Take all noble titles given in this story (with the exception of already established ones within the TV series) with a grain of salt.

**Story:**

_Part 4 – Loyalty_

 

**NOTTINGHAM** **TOWN**

 

Allan-a-Dale awoke with a startled grunt as he kicked his legs up a bit and sat up suddenly, his breath coming in gasps.  The last thing he remembered-

_“I should have done what you should have done in the beginning,” Robin shook his head and he closed his eyes, preparing for the worst._

His hands immediately patted his own body, but he could feel no holes in him, no warm sticky slick blood, just...a lot of bruises.  Some of whom made him wince as he touched them in an effort to find any stab wounds on himself.  He grunted in pain and finally looked around him.  He had been lying on a bed, straw covered and definitely very uncomfortable as he could feel a few twigs poking him in the back, but it was definitely a room with dim light from the fireplace and waning sunlight.

“Oh, you're awake!” a young voice spoke up to his left and he saw Lydia peek in from the door, her face stained with ash, but a bright smile on her lips, “I'll go get the Mistress.”  She closed the door and Allan heard her steps fade away slowly before a few seconds later heavier footsteps approached the door and it opened to reveal Anna.

“Allan,” her smile was genuine and she quickly closed the door before crossing to his bedside and reached out to brush an errant strand of hair from his face.

“Anna, what...” he could barely remember what had happened.  He knew that she had been held hostage by the Sheriff, and he had been fighting Robin...but Robin had struck him down...and was about to kill him, wasn't he?

“You were knocked out cold for a while there when the peasants trampled the arena;” she sat back, “Dennis rescued you...”

“Dennis?  But I thought-” Allan stopped mid-sentence as the door opened slightly again and in walked Dennis, mousy-haired and all, looking down at the ground.  He was carrying a tray of food and Anna took it before waving him away.

Allan recognized the almost long-forgotten gesture between master and servant, something he had witnessed to when he had been with Anna, courting her.  Back then, he was just a mere peasant like the rest of Rochdale, but with Anna, his status was all but irrelevant.  Servants treated him like he was a noble, a concept that was very foreign to him when he had first met her, but soon had gotten used to it.

He stayed silent until Dennis left the room without another look and let a noisy sigh of relief out of his mouth.  That was the most uncomfortable thing he had ever felt for a long time.  He had gotten so used to being a peasant again, a thief, a con-man, that having someone wait on him made him a bit squeamish.  When he had met Robin, he had expected Much to do the same thing Anna and her servants had, but Robin was a much different master.  He disliked servitude, considering all to be equal.  It had been such a breath of fresh air to see someone who was so dedicated to the welfare of others, so selfless...

“I can't go back, can I?” he asked quietly, staring at his hands.

“Why would you?” Anna asked as she began to slice pieces of bread and cheese, handing him a piece to which he absently nibbled on.

“You lied,” he looked at her with steady eyes, “you lied about fighting the Sheriff.  That was Robin in the armor and those colors.  You lied when you said Rowan was out of the tournament in the first round.”

“I did no such-”

“Anna, I spent my whole life lying.  Don't start with me now,” he cut her off.

He saw her look at him for a long second before placing the knife and bread she was cutting down on the tray.  “Allan, what I did...” she started quietly and he immediately felt like her words were cutting into him, “I did for you, for your future, for our future...”

“By having me kill Robin,” he stated flatly.

“You really wanted me to die?  Like your brother Tom?  Is that it?” she shot him hurt look and he looked away.

“No,” he grimaced before turning back to her, “no, I didn't...you know I would never...”

“The Sheriff,” she started haltingly, “offered me a chance to regain my lands and for him to put in a word of favor to Prince John after he killed my family a few weeks ago.  How could I say no?  Rochdale was burning, the people hated the Rushcliffes after what they did to you, to Tom, even to the Fosters and the Coopers.”

“No...not them.  But Ronald and his family-”

“All driven out by my father,” she shook her head sadly and he felt a pang of sorrow at the loss of the two peasant families that had been the life of the town at times.  The Fosters and Coopers were considered some of the most generous peasants around Rochdale, always treating others and taking care of anyone who was sick.  To hear that Lord Rushcliffe had done such a thing.  Things indeed had changed, for the worst, in his home town since he and Tom were exiled.

He hadn’t realized he had spoken his last thought out loud until he heard her.

“I agree,” she hedged a slight breath, “I didn't know that you were working for Robin Hood.  If I had known...oh Allan, I'm so sorry.  I wouldn't have gotten you involved.”

Allan knew she wanted him to say that it was all right, but how could he when he felt so torn.  He had attacked Robin, had chose Anna over his loyalty to the man who had saved his life twice.  He didn't know what had made him really snap, but what he had felt when he saw Anna, being held hostage by the Sheriff...

“Why did he hold you hostage when you agreed to his plan?” he asked quietly.

“Why does any megalomaniac man who only wants things for himself like power and prestige?  You should know, having clashed with him so many times.  You know what he did to the people of Sherwood, what he did to Tom,” she looked down, her hands folding in on themselves.

Allan nodded absently, having finished his piece of bread and cheese long ago, but he did not feel hungry anymore.  Another thought occurred to him.  “Why Dennis?”

She looked up and a sad smile graced her beautiful face, “Dennis and Lydia were the only ones who were loyal to me while I was growing up.  They were the only real friends I had all along.  Dennis...I told him that if anything were to happen to me, he would go to the Sheriff, offer him his services and assassinate him.  Lydia...well, she would never leave my side.”

“But why attack Robin?  He's never-”

“It's all part of the deception, don't you see?” she looked at him, her voice cracking slightly, “I had to attack Robin because then he would have suspected.”

“I don't mean to be funny,” Allan shook his head, “but Robin's not like that.  He's different.  He understands people, knows where they're coming from.  He would have tried to help you.  You didn't need to resort to this...”

“Too late for that,” Anna murmured and Allan knew she was right.  It was much too late to go back and apologize to Robin.  But what if it was all just a misunderstanding?  Maybe if they could somehow get a message to Robin to come here so he could properly apologize, so Anna could really tell her story.

“What if we got a message to Robin to come here-“

“No!” Anna’s sharp tone startled him and he looked at her, surprised.

“Why not?”

“No,” she repeated her answer and took a deep breath, “I…just don’t want to deal with Robin or anyone else at the moment.”

“But we at least need to make sure Marian-“

“She’s fine,” Anna cut him off and he looked at her, surprised, “I made sure that she was fine, along with her father and that young man, Rowan.”

“How do you know this?” something told him that Anna wasn’t quite truthful and was becoming very evasive with her answers.  No one could have all of the answers, yet Anna seemed to have everything.  Just what was the deal she had made with the Sheriff?

“I…” she looked away towards the windows, “didn’t want Marian to get hurt.  She’s a fellow noble, you see?  She has so much potential, and she’s just an innocent in all of this.”

“I don’t mean to be funny, but she’s as guilty as you or I are in helping outlaws.  And what’s this about being a fellow noble.  Robin’s formerly a noble, did you consider that?”

“Robin _chose_ to be an outlaw,” she looked at him flatly.

“So, you did too, what does that make me?  Lower than an outlaw?” he frowned.

“No, no,” she reached out to reassure him, but he leaned away from her touch, “I didn’t mean that.  You’re always going to be special to me Allan.”

A sudden surge of anger filled him; those were the same words he had heard her say to his brother.  “And what about Tom?  Was he also special to you when you decided to take him under your care?”

“Tom’s dead,” she looked at him, withdrawing her hand, “and you’re still letting petty jealousies get the best of you?”

“That’s what got us kicked out of Rochdale the last time,” his eyes flashed angrily.  “I thought you were happy with me.  But it seemed that you were also content to fool around with my brother.  Did you know that he robbed me our first night in the woods?  That’s when I learned I couldn’t trust anyone so please; don’t even think of telling me that petty jealousy is what it’s all about.”

“You trusted me after all these years.  You believed me when I told you that the Sheriff was wearing those colors,” her brown eyes flashed with hurt.

“Only because I thought you were in real trouble.  That you had a solid plan!” Allan half-shouted, feeling his anger growing at her, “God, Anna, why do you do this to me?!  You come into my life after all these years and think you can mess with it, consequences be damned.”

“The consequences can be damned because I love you too much to lose you to that heartless outlaw Robin Hood!” she shouted back at him and he recoiled, shocked.

“Robin is not heartless-“

“He killed Tom,” she had stood up and was now towering over him, her voice frozen cold, “he could have saved him, but he killed him.  Just like the Sheriff killed him.  Tom’s dead because no one did a damn thing.  I came to save _you_ , Allan-a-Dale.  I came because you are my last love, the only person left I would die for and I don’t think I can stand watching you throw your life away for a _murderer_.”

She abruptly turned around and left the room, slamming the door shut with a loud bang, but Allan didn’t even hear it as her last words hung in the air.  Shock, love, anger, despair, hurt, betrayal, a torrent of emotions filled him as he processed her words.

It all made sense now.  Her enthusiasm at learning the tricks of the trade from Robin; the attack by Dennis on Robin, the Sheriff, and Gisborne; her excuse from their planning to head to Knighton Hall where Robin and Much were going over their end of the plan with Marian and Rowan.  Her expression when she had pitched her plan to kill the Sheriff in the tournament.  She _knew_ it was Robin underneath the armor.  She was counting on his love to her to obey her every whim and deception.

Had she really been held hostage by the Sheriff who had told him to either kill Robin or she would die by Gisborne’s hand?  Was it part of an elaborate plan, ruined by Robin himself as he sought to escape?  Did she really mean it when she said no harm would come to Marian, her father Edward, or even Rowan?  Was everything she had just told him a lie?

The torrent of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him suddenly stopped on one particular one: horror.

“What did I do…?” he whispered.

                                    *                      *                      *

**OUTLAWS’ CAMP,** **SHERWOOD FOREST**

 

Robin awoke with a start as he felt something poke his hip and glanced down to see Djaq holding a needle with a string on it, pulling it tight before dipping back down again and making the final knot into the stitches she had been suturing together.

“I’m almost done,” she muttered before he felt a slight tug and a pinch of pain followed by a soft sigh of relief as she sat back, admiring her handy work.  Robin tentatively lifted the clean shirt he was now wearing, and glanced down at the now closed wound to see that she had expertly stitched up his wound.  There was no blood, only a ring of angry red marks around where she had stuck the needle and pulled the string through.

“You’re awake,” Djaq’s voice made him look up to her to see her smiling at him.

“How long was I out?” he pushed his shirt back down and saw that sitting next to her was the remnants of his old shirt, now just a pile of bloody rags.

“A couple of hours,” she gestured to the sky and Robin noticed that the sun had just about set, setting the sky ablaze with a beautiful red-gold twilight with hints of blue-black night creeping in.

“The others?” he pushed himself up with some help from Djaq into a sitting position and leaned against the tree trunk he had apparently been moved next to.

“Will left a few minutes ago after coming back to tell you that Marian, her father, and Rowan are all safe and back at Knighton Hall.  It seems that someone had attacked Rowan while you were in the arena so the Sheriff was reluctant to believe Marian’s story.  They also didn’t see any signs of Allan or Anna around the castle.  I sent Will back to Knighton Hall make sure that the Sheriff wasn’t bluffing.”

“Good,” he felt like it was a weight off of his shoulders.  It also meant that he didn’t have to think of the unpleasant consequence for Allan when they found him.  He had been considering threatening Allan with his life if any harm had come to Marian.  Allan knew how much he loved Marian and knew that to endanger her was a death sentence on everyone.

“Robin,” Djaq patted him lightly on the arm, “I know you also sent Will away because you don’t want him to know what’s going to happen to Allan, right?”

He looked away from her, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He betrayed us, attacked you,” Djaq continued, “I do not know the exact circumstances, but he must have a good reason for doing so.  If you just hear-“

“Djaq,” he finally faced her, “I don’t know…”

She looked at him for a long moment, her dark eyes seemingly seeing deep into him before she spoke up.  “You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?”

He opened his mouth to protest such a thing, but a part of him couldn’t speak.  Allan had betrayed them because of Anna, for all he knew he could have been working with the Sheriff all along and Anna was most certainly working for the Sheriff he knew that.  The man was very adept at lying and putting on a façade.  He had been a bit disgruntled lately, especially when it concerned money.  He had almost convinced Will to take the loot they had gotten from Gisborne’s stash and run away to Scarborough.

Robin’s initial reaction when he realized Allan had chosen Anna over him was despair.  The second reaction was to attack back, to get revenge for what Allan did to him, to also injure him.

He abruptly stood up, steadying himself briefly by putting a hand on the tree trunk before looking down at Djaq.  “I really…don’t know,” he said, “but what I do know is that we’re going to find him and save him.”  With that, he walked down to the rest of the camp, seeing Little John, Walter, and Aaron look up from whatever they were doing around the fire.

“Where is this safe house you all had decided?” he glanced at Walter and Aaron and the two of them scrambled to their feet.

“We can take you there,” Aaron said, grabbing his sword and Robin nodded before looking at Djaq and Little John as they too grabbed their weapons.  They all headed out of the camp and Robin hoped that Allan and Anna were at the safe house, otherwise, they were probably in the castle and that called for a rescue plan that he did not feel up to planning.

                                    *                      *                      *

**NOTTINGHAM** **CASTLE**

 

“Your master said this plan was foolproof!” Vaysey shouted, banging his fist down upon the table in Great Hall, making the person standing in front of him flinch at the noise.

“I’m sorry, milord,” the sniveling mousy-haired servant muttered back.

“I don’t want apologies, I want results!” he shouted before advancing forward and abruptly tilted the young man’s face so that they were seeing eye to eye.  “I let you in to attack myself and Gisborne here because your master was gracious enough to present to me the seal of Prince John.  Do I have to now dismember you in order to get your master’s attention that I am completely serious about this?”

“N-No, sire,” he looked down, shaking a bit in fear.

“Tell her, that if she doesn’t kill Hood by tonight, I’ll come to her precious little safe house and burn it down myself, do I make myself clear?  I don’t care if she’s Prince John’s little wannabe assassin,” he abruptly shoved the mousy-haired servant towards Gisborne who was leaning too casually for his like against the door.

“Gisborne,” he managed to put enough sneer into his voice without making it sound like he was completely annoyed by his lack of effort during the tournament, “do make sure Dennis here gets back to his little master.  Oh, and if you do happen to see Hood anywhere in town, though I doubt that since her little pawn had done a better job in actually wounding Hood than you, or any of the guards have done in the past few months, do make sure he is dead.”

“Milord,” Gisborne looked at him with a neutral expression before yanking the young man away and the doors closed behind him.

“And make sure you do it, otherwise…I may have to revisit our little agreement on your leper friend,” Vaysey muttered mostly to himself.

                                    *                      *                      *

**KNIGHTON HALL**

 

Marian wrung her hands worriedly as she paced around the room.  She barely noticed that three pairs of eyes belonging to her father, Much, and Rowan were watching her walk back and forth.  Just once she had seen her father try to approach her, but she had held him at bay with just a single look.

If Robin were to die…

No she couldn’t think such thoughts.  Robin would live, he would always live.  He had been through worst.  She had seen the scar he had gotten from the assassin in the Holy Lands.  The same scar that had sent him back to her.  He would not die from a stab wound.

“I’m sure…” Rowan started quietly before trailing off.

“Robin was up and talking when he sent us off…” Much also started, but his boisterous tone faded into nothing as she continued to pace around.

Where was Will?  She had sent him out what she thought was hours ago and he still wasn’t back.  Did he get caught?  Did the Sheriff figure out their ruse?  Were they coming to arrest her and her father?

The gentle knock on the house’s front door made her jump slightly before she rushed towards it, fumbling with the locks and opened it, only to see Will standing there, a bit breathless.

“Will!” she opened the door fully and let him in before closing it behind her and locking it once more.

“He’s fine,” was the first thing out of his mouth and she breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the tension she had been feeling since she saw Robin stabbed ebb away.  “He was unconscious when I left, but Djaq said that he would live.  She was putting stitches-“

“Unconscious?!  Stitches?!” Much looked like he was about to faint if he had not been holding onto the railing of the staircase.  “I knew we shouldn’t have left, I knew it!  I should have-“

“Much,” Will reached out and grabbed the hysterical man firmly by the shoulder, “He’s fine.  Djaq says he’ll live.  It was deep, but it didn’t do too much harm to him.”

“At least none that she couldn’t see,” Much muttered, “I mean what if it was infected-“

“Much!” Marian had enough of the man’s hysterical ranting.  She knew how devoted Much was to Robin, but if he became this panicky each time Robin had been wounded, it was a miracle that he had survived the Holy Lands without passing out from anxiety.  “Djaq’s a capable healer.  Remember what she did for me?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Much finally quieted down before looking up at Will, “Sorry…I didn’t mean…”

Will shook his head, accepting the apology and it was the first time that Marian noticed something about the young carpenter’s expression when Much had been talking about Djaq.  She recognized the expression…and resisted the urge to giggle at the secret she had discovered about Will’s feelings towards the Saracen woman.

“So does that mean we can go back now?” Much looked around brightly.

“Djaq says not to, just in case the Sheriff is only bluffing, but I should go back to Nottingham to make sure that he isn’t sending guards out…” Will looked towards the door and Marian thought it was a good idea until she saw that his eyes were not really focused on the words coming out of his own mouth.

“Will,” she approached him gently and placed a hand on his arm, “what’s wrong?  Is it Robin?”

“Huh?” he turned back and stared at her for a second before shaking his head, “oh, no, no, not about Robin, but-“

“Will,” she looked at him carefully, “if it isn’t about Robin, then why are you so intent on going back to Nottingham?”

“It’s…” he looked torn.

“Allan, isn’t it?” Much filled in for him, but his tone was full of contempt, “you want to go and look for that traitor.”

Will’s face turned into a grimace of pain and Marian instantly understood why.  She knew through her conversations with Robin that Will and Allan were the best of friends, Allan occasionally mentoring Will and helping him get his life adjusted in the woods since he became an outlaw.  To see such a betrayal from such a close friend, it had to be eating at him.  But she had thought that he had escaped the town along with Anna and Lydia after she had seen the two women and a young man pick Allan’s unconscious body from arena and head towards the gates of Nottingham.

“They’ve been captured by the Sheriff, haven’t they?” she guessed.

“We don’t know,” Will looked sullen, “but Anna’s men said that they had a safe house within Nottingham-“

“Then go,” she smile sadly, knowing that it had to be eating him inside for him to follow Robin’s orders while he wanted to look for Allan.

“Will-“

“But Robin said-“

“I’m not a delicate wallflower,” she replied, “I’ll be fine.  Rowan can stay in the guest bedroom tonight and I’ll send him home tomorrow.  Go, before it’s too late.”

“Y-You sure?” Will had a hopeful expression on his youthful face and Marian nodded.

“Go,” she repeated her assent and Will gave her a grateful look before hurrying out of her house, Much following close behind.  She saw the worried look Much gave to her, Rowan, and her father before he disappeared, closing the door behind him.

“That was a very brave thing you did, Marian,” her father spoke up from where he stood in, mostly silent ever since they had returned to their home.  “Either very brave or very foolish.”

“I know,” she replied.

                                    *                      *                      *

**NOTTINGHAM** **TOWN**

 

It was easier to sneak past the guards when they were still in the throes of the nightly celebration from the three-day tournament.  Most of them had a little too much to drink and were only half awake guarding the gates to Nottingham town.  They had slipped in just as easily behind a group of raucous tournament goers and both Walter and Aaron lead them through the winding side streets of the walled town to a ramshackle looking building that was about two stories tall and mashed in between other closed shops and houses.

“Stay out of sight,” he cautioned both Djaq and Little John, the burlier man moving down the street and stayed by another house near an intersection to make sure no guards were nearby.

“What about us?” Walter hissed as he prepared to climb to the second story, which he could see flickering lights of candles signaling that someone was inside the building.

“You two come from the bottom.  And if you even think about any funny business-“

“If Anna did kill our leader, we’ll deal with her,” Aaron growled, looking a bit surly.  Robin didn’t blame them, but it also did not mean he implicitly trusted them to watch his back.

He nodded at them before grabbing hold of an awning and pulled himself up.  Once there, he shuffled to the side and grabbed another awning and his feet found purchase on a couple of beams of wood sticking out from the side.  He climbed all the way up and slid to the side of the building where the windows were open and he heard soft voices coming from the room.

Carefully peering in, he saw a flash of curly-blonde hair and pulled his head back slightly before he thought she saw him by the window.

“Are you still angry at me?” Anna’s voice floated out of the window, “I did it because I was afraid to lose you.”

“If you were so afraid, why couldn’t you just tell me the truth?” Allan’s voice floated back the reply and Robin’s grip on his perch tightened.

“That I wanted you to stay in Rochdale?  That I am sorry I loved both your brother and you?  That I was just a silly little girl who couldn’t choose which one of her heart’s desire she should pursue?” Anna gave a bitter laugh and Robin realized that he had misjudged Allan.

By the way Anna was talking; he had never realized what implications were for Allan and why he had left Rochdale.  In all the months had known the man, never once did he realize how much the thief had not told him about his past.  He had kept it buried within him, so deep that it had only begun to reappear when Anna showed up in Treeton.  It sounded like they were star-crossed lovers, pulled apart by family and society status differences, reunited under the most bitter of circumstances.

“I’m sorry,” hesitation now clouded Anna’s soft voice, “I’m sorry I drove you away.  I should have kept you closer…”

A slight bit of uneasiness filled Robin.  He felt like he shouldn’t listen to such a private conversation, heart-wrenching as it was, but…  He realized that no one was talking anymore and peeked in just in time to see both Allan and Anna standing in the middle of the room, their lips locked in the gentlest kiss he had ever seen.  The tenderness between the two of them reminded Robin of him and Marian in some ways, but he could see tears on Anna’s face.  She had been crying…did she regret whatever deal she had made with the Sheriff?

He had no concrete proof, but it was all too simple to see the puzzle pieces fit together in regards to Anna’s deal with the Sheriff.  She was no different than Allan or even Tom, conning people to get her way, making deals and double-crossing them.  But…

He cursed silently as he made a fist and gently hammered the wall he was sidled up against.  Why did everything have to be so complicated?  He suddenly heard the closing of a door and peered in to see that Anna had left, leaving Allan alone in the room.  This was his chance, he realized, to get some straight answers and finally figure out what he was going to do with the man that had betrayed him.

Making sure his grip was secure; he quietly vaulted through the open window and landed cat-like.  Removing his bow strapped across his shoulder, he notched an arrow into it, but held it pointed down on the ground.

“I was wondering where my attacker went off to,” he started conversationally, startling Allan who spun around and looked at him owlishly.

“Robin,” he looked surprised, “I…”

“Save it,” all of the sympathy he had felt earlier at seeing Allan and Anna was replaced by anger as he stepped forward, letting Allan see his notched bow clearly in the flickering candlelight.  “Why did you do it Allan?”

“I…” he looked away for a second, his face a conflict of emotions, “I didn’t know, I couldn’t let her die; Robin you saw her being held hostage by the Sheriff!  I couldn’t just let her die!”

“Did you know she was working for the Sheriff?” he asked, hoping to startle him with his announcement and was a bit puzzled to see him look down instead.  He tilted his head, “You knew…”

“Yeah-“

“You knew and you still went along with it?!” now Robin was really angry and brought his bow up, pointing it straight at Allan.

“Whoa, wait, Robin-“

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you dead right now,” he said icily, a part of him despairing at the knowledge that Allan knew about Anna’s involvement with the Sheriff and yet still went along with her plan.

“I didn’t know until a few hours ago!” the thief half-shouted, “I thought…I thought she was really trapped by the Sheriff that Gisborne was going to kill her.  I didn’t have a choice-“

“We all have a choice,” he cut Allan off viciously, “we all have a choice whether to do it the easy way or the hard way.”

“Because I love her, that’s why!  Because I can’t see another person I love die!  I saw my brother die because you couldn’t save him in time.  I won’t see another person I care for hang or worst be killed in front of me!” Allan shouted.

Robin shook his head, his expression stricken, “Did you think so little of me that I would let Anna die if I had known what was going on?  Did you think that I did not try to save your brother?  Allan…”

“Of course you didn’t save Tom-a-Dale.  Why would you, he was nothing more than a peasant in your eyes.  A thief, a low life,” the door suddenly opened and Anna stood there, a sword in hand, her hazel eyes blazing with anger.

Robin immediately focused his arrow on Anna and quickly glanced to see Allan standing to the side, surprised.

“Anna, what are you-“

“This is the man that killed Tom, the one who would surely kill you now because of what you did.  What are you standing there for, Allan?  Finish it!” Anna looked at Allan incredulously and Robin dared to dart a look back to see if Allan was going to comply with her orders.

However, he saw that the thief was frozen on the spot, his head swiveling back and forth between the two of them, his expression torn and confused.

“Allan!”

“Allan, don’t do this,” Robin warned out of the corner of his mouth, “you can still turn back-“

“Why are you hesitating!  Kill him!” Anna screamed before suddenly she launched herself at him and Robin fired off his arrow.

The arrow glanced past her shoulder and he immediately blocked her wild overhead blow with his bow before kicking her roughly in the stomach.  She was knocked back into the bed and tumbled head over heels to the other side with a shriek and Robin made a move to follow when Allan stepped in front of him grabbing at his arms.

“No, wait!” Allan pushed against him.

“Move,” Robin narrowed his eyes, “Allan-“

“Please, don’t,” the taller man looked scared, “don’t hurt-“

Anna stood up with a furious cry, her hair askew, and sword still in hand before she rounded the bed and suddenly Allan turned and held his hands spread from his body like a shield.

“Anna, please stop!” he said, his voice cracking with emotion.

“What are you doing?!  Get out of the way!”

“No, I’m not going to let you kill Robin either,” he looked stricken; “I know you loved Tom, but Robin did not kill him.  Tom was a fool, Anna, he knew he was the main reason why we left Rochdale and he got himself killed because of his recklessness!”

“You lie!  Tom was-“

“He was a fool,” Allan reiterated, “I didn’t even want to save him when the Sheriff announced that they were going to hang.  Robin was the one to convince me otherwise.  Don’t you see?  The person you should be killing is me, not Robin.  I didn’t even want to save my own brother…”

The fury suddenly drained from Anna’s face, only to be replaced by sorrow and something Robin couldn’t exactly identify.  “Oh Allan,” she reached out a tentative hand when just as suddenly the door flew open once more and Robin immediately ducked as the silvery glint of a dagger went flying just where his head used to be and impacted the wall.

“Dennis!” Anna looked surprised, “what are you…?”

“The Sheriff wants him dead so I will kill him before he can kill you, milady!” Dennis lunged towards Robin only to be held in check by both Anna and Lydia who had come from behind to stop her brother.

“No!” Allan made a move to go forward, but Robin grabbed his arm and pulled him back, seeing the look on Anna’s face.  He recognized that look, having seen it on many of his soldiers in the Holy Lands.  It was the face of one who had accepted his or her fate and understood what was at stake.  He saw Anna look at him before her gaze traveled to the candlesticks in the room and he knew what she was planning to do.

He shook his head, unable to keep the pain from his own face.  There had to be another way…  He was about to speak up when Anna smiled, barely restraining Dennis who was still fighting to reach Robin.

“Allan, I’m sorry, forgive me.  But please, wait outside while I deal with Dennis,” she asked gently and Robin slackened his grip on Allan’s arm slightly as he nodded, unaware of what the real conversation was happening silently between her and Robin.  For some odd reason, it gave comfort to Robin that Anna still knew the subtle communications of the nobility through eyes and little slight gestures that would have gone unnoticed to the rest of the populace, Allan included.

“Robin,” she looked at him, “I…owe you an apology…and my thanks.”

He shouldered his bow and nodded before ushering Allan out of the door and closed it firmly behind him.  Robin bowed his head slightly for a second before heading downstairs, his heart heavy, but he knew what he had to do.  He heard Allan follow him silently and when they reached the first floor he turned and looked at the thief.

“I can’t come back, can I?” Allan looked very forlorn and lost.

“We’ll see,” Robin still hadn’t quite made up his mind about Allan yet, but for now, he would do as Anna had entrusted him.  He glanced to his left and saw both Walter and Aaron a bit bloodied and unconscious, but definitely not dead.  It looked like Dennis had incapacitated them before heading upstairs to try to kill him.  He was about to move towards them when he smelled the first signs of smoke and glanced up the stairs to see little puffs of it seeping out from underneath the door.

“Why does it…” Allan followed his gaze and his eyes widened in shock, but before he could make a move, Robin was ready for him and grabbed onto him tightly.

“Djaq!  Little John!” he shouted, trying to restrain Allan’s flailing arms with little success and the pounding of feet before Will and Much’s faces appeared before him and helped him drag the protesting thief out of the building and into the street.

“What are you-“

“Marian sent us,” Will provided by way of an explanation as they all held onto Allan who was screaming curses at them while trying to get back in.  Out in the street, Robin looked up and saw that the second floor of the building was already beginning to burn…

“Robin, the Sheriff’s men!” Little John ran from where he had been looking out and he looked behind Little John to see the distant forms of soldiers running towards the burning building.

“Quick, Much, Little John, get Walter and Aaron.  Then let’s go!” he ducked an elbow to his face from Allan before finally punching the man in the head, knocking him out.  He winced a bit as he shook out his hand, bone on bone hurt a lot.

Djaq suddenly appeared from another corner of the street, leading four horses already all saddled up towards them.  Robin quickly mounted his and accepted Allan’s unconscious form across his saddle before noting that Much was helping Little John put Walter across his saddle and Djaq helped Much drape Aaron’s form across his saddle before she and Will mounted the last horse.  Seeing that all of his men were secured, he gave the burning building one more glance before spurring his horse on just Nottingham’s soldiers’ shouts were within hearing range.

He could hear the cries of the soldiers shouting to get water, to go after them, and to evacuate the buildings nearby before everything got out of control as they rode through the streets and into the main street of Nottingham town before charging past the startled guards at the gates and made a beeline towards the forest.

In all of this, he never noticed a small figure stealthily climbing up the side of the burning building and disappear inside.

                                    *                      *                      *

**OUTLAWS’ CAMP,** **SHERWOOD FOREST**

 

It was near midday the next morning when Allan awakened, finding himself tied to a rather large tree trunk.  He shifted against his bonds and that was when Robin finally noticed that he was awake.  He dropped the stick he had been whittling to make a new arrow and approached Allan who looked up a bit owlishly at him before his gaze became flat.

“I guess I’m going to be killed,” he muttered sullenly and Robin didn’t blame him.

His hip wound was still pulsating a fiery pain, especially with the climbing and riding he had done last night.  Djaq had chided him for doing such strenuous activity and immediately gave a liquid herb that had made him fall into a deep sleep to which he had only woken up an hour or so ago.

“Is that what you really want?  To die tied up?” he asked carefully.

“No,” Allan replied, “I want to live, breathe, same as you.  But…”  He looked away for a second, “the room, it was burning wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“You knew she was going to burn herself,” Allan said and he blinked in surprise.

“Yes,” the words fell out of his mouth before he could recall them.

He gave him a sarcastically faint smile, “She taught me, you know.  Taught me how to be all like you, like her.  Like a noble…”

“You let yourself be led out of there,” Robin was very surprised.  “You knew what she intended to do…why?”

Allan looked down and Robin thought he saw a bit of unshed tears in his eyes, “Because I thought she was going to follow, after Dennis…why did you stop me?!”

Robin wanted to say because he knew Anna wanted to die.  To atone for her own sins and grief, and to ultimately free Allan from the burdens of his past.  He wanted to say that Anna knew Allan now belonged here, with a new liege to serve so to speak.  One that would never test his loyalty nor ask more than he could give.  That Allan was now free to choose his path, whether it be for good or for worst – the easy or the hard path.  But he knew he couldn’t say any of it.  They weren’t his words to say…they were Allan’s own words to find.

He sighed and reached over and cut the bonds holding him to the tree.  “I can’t tell you the reason why, that’s for you to figure out, Allan.  But, it’s now up to you to decide where your loyalties lie.”  He gestured to the forest and to the rest of the camp, knowing that the others were still sitting by the fire, with the exception of Walter and Aaron who had taken their share of the loot back to Rochdale earlier in the morning after promising to help the poor in the town.

“If you decide to stay here, know that I will never test your loyalty to me or to our cause.  But if you end up betraying me ever again, I will personally find you and deal with you myself.”

“So, that’s it?  I can leave?”

“With your share of the spoils if you wish,” he said in a simple tone, “you can return to Rochdale, or even go wherever you wish.  But you will never be welcomed back again.”

“She’s dead, isn’t she?”

“We heard reports that they found bodies in what was left of the safe house…”

He saw Allan look towards the woods and up at the ceiling of green leaves before scratching the back of his hair.  “Some tournament, huh…”

Robin couldn’t agree more.  “Some tournament.”

                                    *                      *                      *

**KNIGHTON HALL**

 

She was loaded gently onto a cart in the twilight hours of the dusky evening.  Her wounds were still healing and a shawl covered her face to hide her disfigurement and burns.  But she was alive…

“How do I thank you?” her voice once boisterous and full of live was now just a mere crackle of what it once was.

“This is my thank you to you for saving my life, my father’s life, and Rowan’s life.  Without Dennis’ aide under your orders, we would have been in deeper trouble.  So consider this a debt repaid,” Marian replied, placing a gentle hand on her cloth covered one.  She was still dressed in a facsimile outfit of the Nightwatchman that she had hastily found deep in her chest of clothes the night before.  But she had made sure no one had seen her slip in and out of her home.

“I promise I will write and explain everything to you,” she said faintly as the cart started off its long journey to the nunnery at Rufford.

“Farewell, Anna,” she lifted her hand in a wave of goodbye as the cart disappeared over a ridge and into the woods.

 

~END~

 

**Author’s Final Notes/Q &A:**

            I hope you all enjoyed reading Tournament, technically the second episode in my virtual season of Robin Hood, Post Season 1.  This story leads straight into my next one, called _Quarantine_.  _Quarantine_ will bridge the events of _Tournament_ into _The Assassin’s Gift_ , so for those of you who have already read _TAG_ , you can now re-read it with a better understanding of Allan’s mental state in that story.  As always, I enjoy your reviews and comments!

 

**What did you base this story on?**

            This story was written after I wondered what it would be like to expand on the silver arrow episode.  I had planned Allan’s betrayal of the gang long before I even saw or heard of Season 2’s take of Allan’s betrayal so I was quite surprised to see how it was handled.  My beta and I agreed that we both felt Allan’s reason for betraying the gang in the real Season 2 was pretty petty.  So she wanted me to flesh out this one into him having something more than money.

 

**Is that why you gave him a love interest?**

            Sort of.  I always had Anna in the back of my mind while I was planning out my little set of stories.  I always envisioned a star-crossed lovers type of thing between Allan and Anna, more to the effect of Romeo and Juliet.  The funny thing was that I originally was going to have Anna go berserk and accidentally kill herself in the fire instead of committing suicide, but by having her commit suicide to “free” Allan from his burdens seemed more poignant.  As you can see, she survived only through Marian’s intervention.  That will be a major discussion in _Quarantine_.

 

**Speaking of Anna, she’s always lying, plotting.  What’s up with that?**

            Anna is very insecure, if you couldn’t tell.  Actually the actress I had envisioned to play her if I was filming this was Anna-Louise Plowman, who played Sarah/Osiris on _Stargate SG-1_.  I like to pretend Anna’s always lying and plotting because of her background.  She is a noble, and has that nobility disdain for lower class people, yet she tries too hard to hide it and bury it that it manifests so wrongly for her.  It’s why she was so irrational and believed that Robin had deliberately killed Tom and not the other way around.

 

Any other questions can be directed either in your reviews or through private messaging!  Thank you again for reading!  Here’s your updated list and the list of how the stories are supposed to be read!

 

_Well Met Steel_ – completed

_Tournament_ – completed

_Quarantine_ – in progress

_The Assassin’s Gift_ – completed

_Solace of Silence_ – in progress (takes place pre- _Robin Hood_ )

_Witch Hazel_ – planning stages

_The Return of King Richard Trilogy_ – planning stages


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